


I Promise

by wildfrancium



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, M/M, Omega Kent, Pregnancy, Trans Male Character, Unplanned Pregnancy, artist kent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-03-25 23:42:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 31,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13845513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildfrancium/pseuds/wildfrancium
Summary: After getting kicked out of home at 18, Kent goes to live with Larissa; an old friend and fellow artist. For a multitude of reasons, Kent's life is falling apart, but he then learns he's pregnant after hooking up with Jack Zimmermann. (He also might have fallen in love with Jack. Oops.)[Previously titled 'I Got Stamina']





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After discussions of pregnant Kent in a Kent Discord, I HAD to write this. I'm nervous because it's VERY different from what I usually write, but I can't stop thinking about pregnant Kent and this fic and gah I have so many ideas I need to write. I hope everyone enjoys and let me know yours thoughts/ideas/complaints. 
> 
> ALSO, while Kent in a trans man in this fic, I am not a trans individual, so please let me know if there's something completely wrong with how I write Kent. 
> 
> Now enjoy!

Samwell was sticky. The sky was cloudless and the world was sleeping through the early morning heat. There was a hint of burnt in the air. Burnt cardboard or wood or charcoal mixed with smoke from fireworks that disappeared only when the sun came up. 

Kent didn’t like the sound of his suitcase wheels clacking on the pavement. He’d turned his music loud and he could still hear the soft click as the plastic wheels hit another crack. It annoyed him to the point of considering throwing his suitcase into the street and forgetting about it forever. 

The address was written on his hand in smudged ink that matched the ink coating his finger tips. Drawing on a train had been both harder and easier than he’d thought it would be. He’d gone through a number of pages on the long ride from Quebec City. 

Kent yawned, picking up his bag and climbing the stairs to the second floor. The entire lawn of the complex looked like a disaster zone with garbage and streamers and empty bottles. The stairs weren’t much better and the second floor was covered in bunting and string lights that were all falling down. 

He knocked on apartment 2H and waited. Kent dug his teeth into his bottom lip while he waited. He’d texted that he was on his way over, but hadn’t gotten a reply. Standing in the deserted complex made him anxious and the early morning sun was heating up his back making his tank stick to his skin. 

But the door opened and Larissa stood in an oversized shirt stifling a yawn. She’d shaved half her head and had the long half in a ponytail that jutted from the top of her head. 

“Come in,” she said stepping aside and letting him in the stuffy apartment. He could hear the drone of a fan and it blew the smell of sweat towards him. Sweat and something distinctly alpha which made Kent immediately start to ache everywhere. 

Larissa shut the door and wrapped him in a hug. She pressed his face against her chest and rested her cheek on top of his head. “I’m still kinda drunk I think,” she said sleepily. He didn’t mind though. He clung tight to her. No one had held him for months.

Larissa also smelled calming. Being a mated alpha, her scent didn’t overwhelm, but rather soothed. Like dipping his feet into a stream on a hot day.

“I know there are a lot of people here right now, but they’ll leave you alone,” she murmured. “Do you need anything now? Food? Water? Sleep? It’s barely eight and I doubt you slept well on all those trains.”

“I’m fine,” Kent said. She grunted, but didn’t push. 

“It’s a mess in here, but I can kick people out. Or there’s the studio room. No guests allowed in there,” she said ruffling his hair. He scowled at her, but she smiled. 

“I’ll go in the studio,” Kent said. She nodded, pulling him further into the apartment. The smell was stronger as he stepped over bodies. His eyes lingered on sweaty people covering the couch and floor of the living room. No one was quite right though. 

With a sigh, he went into the studio. “I’ll be in my room if you need me,” Larissa said pointing towards the other closed door. Kent nodded and she let him be.

The smell of paint fumes was more welcomed then the scent of alphas. The windows were all opened, but the fans were off, leaving the room reeking and comforting. Larissa had quite the collection of brushes and paint and cans and primer and thinner all shoved onto messy trays and tables. The shelves held paint splattered books and tools. The wall was lined with used and unused canvas. The floor was covered in drop clothes and news papers. 

Kent left his stuff by the door. Nearly all his supplies had been left at home with no way to transport it. Larissa said he could help himself to whatever, but Kent planned to build up his own supply again. 

In the meantime, he pulled out the sketchbooks he had and his pens and pencils. He itched to get his hands on canvas and get dirty, but he didn’t want to take without asking. So, Kent carried his things across the room, turning the fan on so that it’d hopefully suck the fumes out of the room, and then stood by the full length mirror. 

He dropped his things at his feet and lifted his shirt. He was a sweaty mess, but his eyes were on his flat stomach. It was still toned and flat, flat, flat. Even if he tried to push it out he didn’t look pregnant. 

Maybe the alpha that said he smelled pregnant had been wrong. Maybe the pregnancy test had been wrong. Maybe the second test had been fucking wrong too. 

Kent splayed his fingers across his stomach. His pants hung low showing off sharp hip bones. He ran his thumb up to the bottom point of the large compass that covered his chest. 

He turned from the mirror and sat by the window. He kicked his shoes off and flipped to a blank page. Kent turned his music back on and tried to will himself to draw something new. 

But every time he shut his eyes he saw the blues ones staring so intently back. Those pink lips ready to say whatever dirty thing came to mind. The tongue willing to go anywhere. The hands that held and caressed in all the right ways. The dark hair Kent would tug and pull. He could still feel the silky strands. 

And the smell. The smell was the best, standing out in the sweaty club even after Kent had dulled his senses with suppressants and drugs. It was something so distinctly Jack that it made Kent hurt to remember. 

He sighed, opening his eyes. Whatever had started between them always had an end date. Jack had prefaced their first hookup with that. No mating, no bonding, no knotting and the sex stopped when he left at the end of May. 

Maybe Kent had expected more than a quick fuck their last time. Jack barely said anything and was gone before the sun came up leaving Kent with a number that was disconnected a few days later. 

It was always going to end. Kent wasn’t attached or anything, but now Jack was gone and he couldn’t stop thinking about him. But maybe there was a small part of Kent that wanted Jack to take him with him where ever he went. Kent had told Jack that once he was 18 he was out. His parents were tired of his choices. Choices meaning art and men. 

Larissa had been his only life line. She was three years older, but they’d grown up together. She walked him to school when he was little. She’d reached out, telling Kent to come stay with her and her boyfriend where they went to school. She’d always told Kent there was room for him with her. 

Kent threw his sketchbook; annoyed at the hot tears that fell without his permission. He’d told himself over and over that he was done crying about all that shit. It was old news and he was moving on. 

Pregnant or not.

 

 

 

“Hey Kenny, you asleep or dead?” Kent heard Larissa asking. He opened his eyes and sat up slowly. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but there was drool all over his cheek and his body was stiff from lying on the floor. He squinted up at Larissa. She was dressed for the day and drinking from a large mug. 

“Coffee,” Kent said standing up. He rubbed his face with the hem of his shirt and stumbled out of the studio. The apartment was empty now. Well, besides Larissa and her boyfriend Shitty who stood in the kitchen. Another alpha, but a mated one. 

Kent sat at the counter and put his head down on the cool surface. Shitty put a large glass of water by Kent. He frowned, but took it. 

“Hey Kent. Good to finally meet properly, ya know?” Shitty said with a grin and extended his hand. Kent shook it. “Sorry about the mess. Things got wild celebrating this shithole country. I didn’t even wake up in my own clothes!” he laughed. Larissa laughed to. 

“I wish you’d come earlier, but we’ll celebrate your birthday today. And i know you’re going to refuse, but too bad. If you’re a good boy I won’t tell the waitress it’s your birthday,” Larissa said slinging an arm around Kent. He scowled. 

“You’re the worst,” he muttered sipping the water. 

“So you’ve been telling me for years,” she laughed, squeezing his shoulder. “But Kent,” she said voice softer, “we need to talk about why you look like shit.”

“Thanks,” he grumbled, looking at his hands. 

“I’m serious, Kent. Are you eating enough? Sleeping enough? I don’t want to be that protective alpha and everything, but you walked in here looking terrible.”

Kent shrugged. He had been having issues with feeling sick in the morning. His body ached like he’d been run over by a truck. His house had felt like a jail cell. And when he shut his eyes he could only see Jack.

“I’m fine,” Kent said, running his finger through the condensation on the glass. He knew he wasn’t fooling anyone though. 

“Kent,” Larissa said and paused. He knew what she was going to say, but hearing it still knocked the air out of his lungs. “Are you pregnant?”

He thought for a moment he was going to burst into tears, but he didn’t. “I don’t know,” he said in a small voice. Even though he did know. It just hadn’t been confirmed by a doctor. 

“Okay,” Larissa said. “Did you bond with them?” 

“No, I didn’t!” he snapped. “I’m not that stupid! Besides he said we weren’t. We were just fucking!” 

“Okay, okay Kent okay,” Larissa said holding up her hands. Kent felt the tears burning his eyes now. He wanted to throw the glass. 

“And I don’t know why okay? I was on suppressants and birth control and everything!” Kent shouted. He felt the anger and sadness bubbling up inside of him. The dam was going to break. “We were just fucking each other!” he shouted again unsure of who he was convincing. “I was just something fun to do, I don’t know!” he took a deep breath. “They were find with the I’m a boy stuff and they were fine with the omega stuff, but the gay shit? No that was the fucking line!” Kent screamed at Larissa. “That was the line and no one wants me!” 

He burst into tears. He felt the fat, hot tears stream down his face as Larissa wrapped her arms around him. She was whispering something, but he couldn’t hear her as he sobbed loudly. He was hot and sweaty and he could feel his nose running, but he couldn’t stop the tears. 

“He was supposed to love me!” Kent cried. He dug his fingers into Larissa’s back. He gotten high the night Jack came over for their last hook up. He’d taken whatever he could get at the club, so that it wouldn’t hurt when Jack left for the last time. 

It didn’t work. It hadn’t helped at all and Kent had stayed in bed all day crying about it.

“I know,” Larissa said, rubbing his back. “How about we go lie down? I promise it’ll help,” she continued, gently leading Kent towards the bedroom. He continued to cry as she shut the door and helped him out of his tank and pants. She turned the ceiling fan on high and softly pushed Kent down onto the bed. 

He buried his face in her pillow, trying to will himself to calm down. “I did this stuff with Kim,” Larissa said, speaking of her sister. “There’s a lot of baby books on how to cope when pregnant and not having your mate around.” 

Kent vaguely remembered Larissa mentioning that her sisters husband was in the army. “Sometimes, just being with an alpha you trust, that’s family, helps soothe. It obviously still early, but I can smell it,” she said tracing the planets down Kent’s spine. The sun was on the back of his neck and pluto sat just about the band of his boxers. He did feel a little calmer. Or maybe he was just crying himself to sleep again. 

He turned his head to the side so that he could stare at the wall. He liked the color of the wall. A soft seafoam green. 

Larissa walked her fingers back up his spine and he yawned. 

Maybe when he woke up he’d paint water… 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catch me writing a lot for a fic probably only one (1) person cares about. Oops.
> 
> Spoilerish notes at the end~

Doctors made Kent extremely uncomfortable, but Larissa had stood at his side while he browsed clinic doctors on her laptop. He picked one, emailed her, and then set up an appointment. All his life, he’d done a good job of avoiding doctors even though the physician he’d seen to get hormones and then suppressants hadn’t been that bad. 

It was still awkward and if Larissa hadn’t been in the waiting room with him, he would have left and skipped out on the appointment. Hell, he’d leave with no plans on coming back. 

But they sat together in the corner, Larissa acting as support and protector. 

There were a variety of people in the waiting room. Pregnant people, young people, old people, mated people, unmated people. The smell was kind of overwhelming even though they were next to the air filter. 

“Do you need me in there with you?” Larissa asked again. Last time she’d asked Kent had just shrugged. 

“No, I don’t think so,” he said playing with the hem of his shirt. He’d looked up some pregnancy stuff on the computer and Larissa and Shitty talked about some things with him before he had to bail on the conversation and decompress in the studio. 

He had a huge canvas thanks to Larissa. The biggest he’d ever used before and was working on outlining waves over the entire surface. Before they’d left for the appointment, he had been mixing paints and his hands were speckled with blues and greens. 

Kent rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans. He’d had to get blood drawn before the appointment and he was still feeling a little nauseous after he accidentally looked at the needle in his arm. They’d given him some food and juice, but now it was all rolling around in his stomach.

“Kent Parson?” a nurse called. He fought the urge to vomit and run, and stood up slowly to follow her to the exam room. 

The room was private and smelled overly sterile. It was a welcomed smell after the waiting room though. There was a counter and cabinets and a sink, but Kent’s eyes went to the dreaded chair in the center of the room. He felt sweaty and was thankful the nurse gestured to the regular chairs near the door. 

She asked some questions and entered information into the computer. Kent wrung his hands together wanting to leave. Pregnancy be damned. He didn’t need to be in there. 

Then it was time to wait alone in the room staring at the stupid chair and trying to think about anything else. But the only other thing he could think about was Jack somewhere in the world forgetting about Kent. Jack was probably off being famous or something. He told Kent his parents expected him to be a famous hockey player, but he didn’t want to talk about hockey with Kent. Kent had said that was fine because he didn’t know a thing about hockey except it did fantastic things to Jack’s body. So many muscles that Kent had the pleasure of touching and lickinig. 

Fuck, he wanted to cry now. 

But the door clicked open after a knock and a woman with long, dark red hair entered. She smiled, holding out her hand. “Hello Kent, I’m Doctor Leslie Andrews.” Kent shook her hand, slightly relieved to see she looked exactly like her photo on the internet.

“I’m Kent Parson,” Kent said. His mouth and throat felt dry. But she smiled and took a seat at the computer. 

“Now, I have some things I want to go over before we do an examination, okay?”

Kent nodded, playing with the hem of his shirt again.

“I work primarily with omegas and many pregnant omegas. As you know, all omegas can get pregnant, regardless of gender. Something I find a lot of omegas don’t know is that over fifty percent of omegas, of any gender, need some kind of hormone therapy in their lives. This can prove tricky as there are some suppressants that aren’t very compatible with certain hormones. For example, the brand of suppressants you’re taking.”

Kent felt nauseous again. He’d been told the thing about hormones, but not the thing about suppressants. 

“When did you start taking hormones?” Dr. Andrews asked. 

“When I was thirteen, before I started puberty,” Kent told her. “And I presented at fifteen and immediately went on suppressants to avoid further uh puberty things and heat,”Kent said feeling himself turn bright red. He was pretty sure all that avoiding stuff was about to be undone and he didn’t know if he was ready.

Kent had liked the idea of getting pregnant when he was like thirty with a life and a husband and a house and everything. He felt he’d be ready to be pregnant at that point. 

Not now when the thought of having anything other than a flat chest made him nearly hyperventilate. 

“So you’ve never gone into heat?” she asked. 

“I haven’t. That’s why… like am I really pregnant? The guy I was with said no mating or bonding or knotting… so I didn’t think it was possible,” Kent said in a small voice. That hadn’t used condoms because Kent thought he was safe.

“Well, with the hormones and suppressants not being compatible, it can cause the body to still release an egg without triggering heat. That’s the number one issue with not having the right combination.”

“Oh,” Kent said deflating. No one had told him that. He’d never heard it before. “So, then I am…”

“Yes, I got the results back and you are pregnant,” she said. Kent slumped, staring at his hands and forcing himself not to cry. “Is your partner in the picture?” she asked after a moment. Kent shook his head, not looking up. “Do you know how you want to proceed? I can go over your options,” she said softly. Kent just shrugged. “Okay well, if abortion is something you want to do or look into, I can give you information and the names of doctors who can help you through that. There’s adoption. While it can be extremely difficult for an omega, especially an unmated omega, to part with a baby, giving the baby up for adoption is possible. We have a great team of doctors and therapists who can help you with that if you choose adoption. Or you can have the baby and I’ll be here to take you through the entire thing permitting you’d like me to stay your doctor.”

Larissa and Shitty had already talked with Kent about his options. They’d talked them through with him for hours over the last few days. Keeping the baby was a lot, but both of them said they’d stand by Kent if that was his choice. Larissa said he could live with them forever and Shitty said he’d always wanted a little brother and a niece or nephew. 

They’d help him find work and support his art and his choices with his baby. It was more than Kent could ever think of asking from them. He had quite a lot of his own money saved up, but knowing he didn’t have to do it all on his own had cemented his decision before the appointment. 

“I’m going to keep the baby,” Kent said in a tiny voice. “And I’ve got people who will help me with everything.”

“Okay Kent,” Dr. Andrews said. She smiled when he looked up and he relaxed a bit. “From the information you’ve giving me, I’d say you are about five weeks pregnant. Assuming you go a full 40 weeks, I’d put your due date on February 24th. Obviously, most things don’t go as planned, but that’s why I’m here to help you get to the end of the 40 weeks. Now, first and foremost, you will have to stop taking the hormones and suppressants. I’ll give you something to take as pregnant unmated omegas can smell very nice to unmated alphas and I don’t want you to have trouble because of that.”

“I heard it’s dangerous to bond while you’re pregnant,” Kent said. Dr. Andrews nodded. 

“Not dangerous, but an omega can be very emotionally delicate during pregnancy and make choices without thinking clearly. It can be very tempting to bond during pregnancy because you want the comfort of a mate without seeing who the person really is.”

Kent nodded. He didn’t want a mate or a bond or any of it if it didn’t involve Jack even though Jack wasn’t going to come back. 

“Another thing is you will develop breasts,” Dr. Andrews said and Kent felt the nausea rush back. “I know this can be particularly hard on all male omegas, but it will happen. It’s part of the process. They will not go away after pregnancy without surgery. If that is a choice you make later, to get surgery to remove your breasts, you will still be able to get pregnant and the breasts won’t reform or anything.”

Kent  _ knew  _ breasts were a thing that came with pregnancy, but hearing it out loud was different. It was another thing Kent had imagined future Kent worrying about and maybe future Kent wouldn’t care that he had breasts because he’d want them to nurse his future baby. 

But this was a now thing. The breasts were now and Kent didn’t want them. 

“Are you ready for an exam? Or do you need a moment? I know it’s a lot and I can step out for a minute or get the person you came with,” Dr. Andrews offered. Kent shook his head. 

“We can do it now,” he said standing up. Dr. Andrews rolled over to a cabinet and pulled out a cloth gown. She handed Kent the gown and pulled the curtain across the room giving Kent privacy. 

“Everything off. Gown open in the front and then take a seat on the chair,” she said, which was just a sour reminder. He pulled off his shirt and folded it and then his shoes and his pants and finally his boxers. 

He sat on the chair feeling cold and exposed. He’d had an exam once to get his suppressants and it was something he’d rather forget. He hadn’t minded Jack putting his hands everywhere on his body, but that didn’t mean he wanted  _ other people _ touching certain parts of him. 

“Are you ready?” Dr. Andrews asked. Kent took a deep breath.

“Yeah,” he said and the curtain was pulled back.

“I’ll walk you through the exam as I do it and then I’ll bring in the ultrasound tech. The baby is only going to look like a small blob, but we like to look anyway and see that progression and development are normal. These next few weeks can be very critical. We also probably won’t hear a heartbeat today, but next time we will for sure hear it,” she explained as she washed her hands and put on gloves.

Kent nodded along as the chair was lifted and tilted back. He put his legs up and tried to think about water and waves and the paint he’d use to cover the waves. 

He stared at one point on the ceiling while she talked and examined. He concentrated on his breathing as he gripped the sides of the chair tight. He tried to think about Jack’s hands and how nice they’d felt all over him. Kent hadn’t known he’d want hands on and in his cunt until he’d been rubbing against Jack and begged Jack to touch him everywhere. 

His mouth, his ass, his chest, his dick, his cunt, Kent wanted Jack’s tongue and fingers and cock in every hole he had. Jack gave it to him. Gave it all to him hard and fast or sweet and slow; wrecking Kent completely every time. 

After the first time he wondered if he was weird because he’d wanted Jack touching certain parts of him. Kent himself didn’t want to touch or even acknowledge those parts most of the time, but Jack… Jack had done it all so perfectly. 

“Are you okay, Kent?” Dr. Andrews asked making Kent realize a few tears had slipped free. “Am I hurting you?”

“No,” Kent said, voice coming out shaky. “I’m just emotional,” he whispered. She patted his thigh. 

“Okay. The tech is going to come in now. If you want to get dressed first that’s okay,” she said. Kent nodded, getting down and taking safety in his clothes. 

The tech came in and Dr. Andrews pointed out things that Kent didn’t really see. He felt exhausted and heavy. A picture was printed out for Kent and given to him along with new prescriptions and a handful of baby brochures. He made his next appointment and then he was back in Larissa’s protective embrace. 

She put his hat on his head and kissed his forehead. “Proud of you,” she said as they left the clinic. She kept a protective arm around him until they got to the car. 

“I want McDonald’s,” he mumbled, pulling the door open. Larissa laughed. 

“Okay, we can do that,” she said as he thumbed through a brochure about eating healthy because he was now eating for two. Kent already ate pretty healthy, or at least a balanced diet, but if he didn’t get a Big Mac in his hands in the next five minutes he was going to die from all the stress that was chewing up his insides. 

 

 

 

It was late. The studio was stuffy and bathed in moonlight. Larissa said he had to wear a mask while inside and take regular breaks because of the fumes. He sat in the middle of the room flipping through his sketchbooks. 

Jack loved when Kent drew him. He said it looked better than a mirror. He said Kent knew how to capture the right look, the right angle, the right light. 

Some were hurried sketches and others were drawn out pieces full of fine detail. It was just fucking in the beginning. Then it was going out to get food. Then it was Jack at his house listening to him talk about art. Jack always wanted to hear about Kent’s art. He wanted to see all the medals and awards and certificates. He read all the magazine and newspaper articles Kent had saved that discussed his art and his talent.

So many people were amazed with Kent. They loved the way his art moved and the colors he chose. He had such a variety of talents that everyone was always looking forward to what he’d do next. 

Except his parents. 

They never liked the art stuff; said it was a waste of time. They didn’t go to his shows or the galleries. His parents didn’t read the articles or the newspapers. Their house was filled with expensive, collectible art pieces, but none of it was Kent’s. His stuff never even made it to the fridge. 

His parents only cared about academics and how he was performing in school. He was always told he would be a lawyer like his parents, join the firm with his parents, work like his parents. Kent didn’t struggle with grades, but he knew he was never going to be a lawyer. Art was his calling. Art was his lifeblood. 

And his parents hated it. 

Kent flipped to an empty page in his sketchbook. Larissa had done a photo shoot with him after McDonald’s. She wanted Kent to have pictures of himself to look at when his body changed. Pictures to remind him that that was who he was, regardless of what the pregnancy did to him. 

He’d appreciated it, but now it was time to drawn his own portrait. 

Kent always told himself that his parents hating him doing art was the trade off. When he was three and said “mommy I’m a boy”, she’d told him okay. They didn’t make a fuss or anything. He went by Kent and that was that. 

Later, he learned that his mother, and father, had worked extensively with court cases involving transgender people. Kent learned that his school had to be coaxed into letting Kent into the boys bathroom. There were a few threats of suing or lawsuits over the years. Some teachers were still shit, and some kids were terrible to him, but Kent had plenty of friends and people to lean on. 

Kent knew so many people weren’t as lucky as he was, so starting young he told himself that was the trade off. They loved him, but they couldn’t love his art. Kent learned to be okay with that. He was happy they accepted and helped him even when they yelled about how he was wasting his time. 

They’d had a big fight about him not living with them after he turned 18. If he went to college, he could stay. If he chose art then he’d have to figure something else out. 

Everytime he argued with his parents he expected them to throw who he was in his face. He waited for the blows about being a transman or about being an omega or about being gay. But they never came. His parents said they loved him, but he always felt like it fell short. He didn’t get it; why the art stuff was such a big deal that they couldn’t overlook. 

Thinking about it made Kent want to smash the mirror. It was all so assbackswards. 

Maybe they shouldn’t have let him spend summers with his grandfather. His grandfather, a retired lawyer, restored paintings at a museum. He’d bring Kent along dressing Kent in special gloves and coats and smocks and hats. They had to wear masks and shoe covers. He couldn’t touch anything and spent hours sitting on a stool watching his grandfather work.

It was boring in that small, stinky room with special lighting. But it was worth it for the hours he spent in the museum looking at the paintings. Canvases bigger than he was or small enough to fit in his palm. Paintings of everything imaginable. Paintings that Kent thought looked like shit, but were worth millions.

He cracked his back. Maybe his child would want to be a lawyer. Maybe they’d like art  _ and  _ want to be a lawyer. Or maybe they’d be like Jack and like ice skating and hockey and speak better French than Kent ever could. Maybe the kid would like history and want a ton of old books full of facts Kent didn’t know. He would like that. He liked when Jack would go off on some history related tangent after making Kent stop on the history channel. 

Kent knew art history and the history they talked about in class, but Jack knew so much more. And Jack knew things that were actually interesting. 

Jack told Kent he one day wanted a house with a library. He said he’d fill in with the history of the world and then have a section dedicated to the history of hockey.

Kent wanted to live in that house with Jack. 

They’d met at a wild New Years Party at a club in Quebec City. Kent was half in the bag and Jack looked so out of place that Kent had to go over and charm him. Jack didn’t say much and Kent though he’d failed. He remembered feeling miserable as the clock counted down. 

And then Jack had grabbed him, pushing their mouths together at midnight and sliding his tongue into Kent’s mouth. It wasn’t Kent’s first kiss, but fuck was it the best one. 

Things escalated from there. Jack telling Kent he didn’t want anything with commitment and Kent being quick to agree. They fucked in Kent’s car. Kent had sobered up by then and they jumped into round two. 

Kent figured it was one and done, but Jack said he wanted to keep it going until he left town in June. Kent shrugged and said fine. 

 

 

 

Kent ran his fingers over the fast lines of his self portrait. Larissa and Shitty had both asked if he planned to tell Jack about the baby. 

Kent didn’t know. He knew Jack had the right to know and it didn’t mean he had to be a part of the kids life. But Kent felt too raw at the thought of telling Jack in that moment. And that was besides the fact that he didn’t even know where Jack was or how to contact him. 

He didn’t want to be pushed away again either. 

Kent got up and left the studio. It was well past 3 AM and he was hungry. The fridge was full of Shitty’s protien shit for bulking for hockey season. He’d insisted that Kent just needed to sprinkle a bit on his food and he wouldn’t taste it at all. 

Kent didn’t tell him he could smell it from across the house and it smelled gross. 

He pulled out the chocolate frozen yogurt and ate from the carton with a spoon. Larissa wanted him to tag along with her and Shitty at hockey practice tomorrow. Kent hadn’t told them Jack played hockey. If he had, Larissa wouldn’t have invited him because she’d know Kent would be masochistic and go. Which he was going to do. 

She wanted his help with taking some preseason photos. Kent felt he was rather shit at photography, but Jack had liked taking pictures of him. Kent drew and Jack photographed. 

So, it was just another masochistic thing for Kent to do while he sulked about everything. 

He put the carton away and went to the pull out couch. The living room had cooled off a decent amount, but it was still too hot for blankets. Kent slept in only boxers anyway. 

He lay on his back, poking his stomach. There was a blob in there that was going to grow into a human. Larissa put the blob photo on the fridge and marked his due date on the calendar. 

Kent wondered when the blob would be able to hear him. He’d seen things where people played music for their pregnant bellies and talked to their stomachs. He’d always liked that idea for future Kent. Holding his swollen belly, whispering sweet nothings to the baby inside. 

No one was pressuring him to tell his parents, but he supposed he needed to do that too, if they’d take his phone call. Maybe he’d email them. He could handle disappointment over email better than over the phone. 

He was barely over eighteen and he’d already gone and made a right mess of everything. 

Kent threw his arm over his eyes. He didn’t know how he was supposed to sleep when he was so fucked. 

He slept anyway. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to let people know that I've asked advice from actual trans people while writing this fic to make sure everything is okay.
> 
> And I decided to make Kent's parents rather accepting because I didn't want to write something that was about hating trans people or thinking it was wrong, etc especially since I don't have personal experiences to draw from. I hope that's okay with everyone. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm changing the title of this story to 'I Promise' which I took from the song Love Lost by the Temper Trap because that song embodies this fic so perfectly. Please give it a listen. Also, I've never written Swoops before so I hope he turned out okay. Enjoy!!

Hearing the heartbeat was a surreal moment. Staring up at the tiled ceiling and listening to the steady thump evoked a feeling Kent had felt a handful of times. When he won his first award for a piece he did when he was ten. The first boy he kissed behind school in sixth grade. The taste of fresh syrup or honey from the bees his grandma kept. 

It was like wandering through wild flowers and smelling the ocean and looking at the stars in the sky when he was far from the city. 

The feeling of paint on his fingers and the smell of glaze. 

The brush of Jack’s lips against his. 

The heartbeat was something so magical that filled Kent with wonder and amazement and a feeling of power. He felt alive.

Dr. Andrews discussed the morning sickness that had been bothering Kent. It was almost like clock work. He’d wake just after six in the morning and spend the next five hours bent over the toilet while Larissa and Shitty took turns stroking his hair and feeding him sips of ice water. 

His body was achy and tender, but still looked the same. Every unmated alpha he passed smelled like candy he wasn’t allowed to have. The ice rink was nice because not only was it cold, but also the icey air dampened the smell of alphas. 

Dr. Andrews said his core body temperature would increase a bit. Like he actually had a bun in the oven, so it was important that he stayed hydrated and avoided getting overheated. 

Kent got a new picture of the blob and some medicine to hopefully help with the morning sickness. He had giant prenatal vitamins to attempt to swallow and Larissa was not impressed when he asked her if she could just shove it up his ass. 

 

 

 

At Farber, the guys always commented on Kent’s ability to skate. He’d always been good at skating, but never had any desire to play an ice sport. He went to a number of ice skating birthday parties growing up though. For a high school project he’d even helped design some costumes for a middle level ice show. 

Now, skating just made him feel closer to Jack. Like maybe if he skated the right patterns or something he could summon Jack. Kent was only slightly alarmed that he found his demon Jack fantasy to be extremely sexy. 

Kent stood at the boards reading a text from his mom. 

‘Hope you’re doing well at Larissa’s.’ she’d texted. It made his eyes burn. They’d threatened all the time to throw him out, but Kent was the one to push it and actually make plans to leave. Maybe they would have done it, and maybe they wouldn’t have gone through with it. But Kent knew staying there would have lead to misery. His senior year had been bad enough.

‘I’m fine.’ he replied and turned his phone off. He headed off to the bathrooms in the locker room. No one had to know that he kind of liked the sour smell of sweaty hockey gear because of how it reminded him of Jack who’d come over after practice or a workout with the smell clinging to him. Kent loved it. 

He was passing through the lounge when the TV caught his attention. Kent stopped dead, all the air leaving his lungs as he watched Jack on TV. The sound wasn’t on, but it looked like some kind of interview. 

Jack looked tense and his smile was slightly awkward as microphones were shoved into his face. It cut to what Kent assumed was Jack on the ice. 

“Oh hey, is that Zimmermann?” Shitty asked coming up behind Kent making Kent jump. He said nothing as Shitty stopped next to him. “He’s supposed to be huge, like the biggest thing in hockey in a long time. Went number 1 right away. The Falconers are expecting to rake in the wins with him. Some say Jack will get them the Cup this year, but even I think that’s a bit much to place on a rookie,” Shitty said taking a drink from his water bottle. 

Kent tried to digest the information. All of it sounded like the things Jack talked about hating. All the fame and the pressure. 

Kent felt distressed. 

“You okay Kent? You’re really pale. I came to ask if you wanted me to take you home. I’ve got that meeting with my advisor and I can drop you off or you can wait for Lards to finish practice.”

Kent stared at Shitty for a long moment. 

“I think I want to go home,” he said. He’d done his best to avoid being alone with his thoughts for too long, but with some alone time he could research Jack in private. It’d taken nearly all his will power to not look Jack up on the internet, but now he felt like Pandora’s box had been opened and he had to know everything. 

“Okay, I’ll go tell Lardo and then we can head out,” Shitty said. Kent looked at the TV. It was talking about baseball. 

 

 

 

The drive took forever. A short drive had never felt so long even though Kent asked to stop so he could buy raspberry lemonade from the corner store. 

But when he was finally tucked in the safety of the stuffy apartment with his fan on and his clothes off, Kent was suddenly super nervous. The only thing he was afraid to see though was Jack in another relationship. It’d only been a few months, but if Kent found out Jack was seeing someone he… well he knew he wouldn’t like it.

So, Kent looked up Jack Zimmermann. 

And was thoroughly bombarded with articles, pictures, videos, and social media links. 

Kent stared for a moment before clicking on twitter. He wasn’t surprised to see most of jzimmermann1’s tweets were retweets or links to videos on youtube that involved him doing hockey related activities. His instagram wasn’t much different. He already had 60K followers and had posted two pictures. The first was a rink in Quebec City and the second was him holding a Falconer’s jersey with some other guy. Not a boyfriend though. 

Both Jack’s profiles said the same thing: I like hockey. Falconer’s #1. And while Kent found all of it to be very fitting of Jack, he was also annoyed by the lack of information. He was almost better off not looking although he did follow both accounts. 

99% of the articles were blah blah hockey this and blah blah hockey that. No wonder he hated the spotlight so much, everyone had hyped him into a legend and he wasn’t even on NHL ice yet. Well, he was but Kent was pretty sure the season hadn’t actually started. Or the main season. 

He went to youtube and watched Jack skating and shooting. Those videos seemed more like the Jack he’d known. The quiet man with a furrowed brow and concentration written on his face. His hair was shorter in newer videos, but it was the same sweaty Jack that would go for a run and end up at Kent’s house. 

Kent lay down, flipping through pictures of Jack. He saved a few to his phone next to his own personal pictures of Jack. Kent absently ran his hand over his belly where their little bun should be. He didn’t know what Jack would think although if he was that famous, he probably wouldn’t be happy to know Kent was carrying his baby. But in Kent’s daydreams Jack was happy and excited. In Kent’s dreamland, Jack took pictures of Kent every day and read books to his belly and told Kent his was beautiful and their little bun was going to be beautiful too. 

 

 

 

“Kent! Are you awake? I got you a job!” Larissa called from the front door. Kent sat up groggy. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but now all he wanted to do was go back to bed. “Kent,” she said rounding the corner. He blinked at her. “I talked to the guy who owns the coffee shop and the job is yours to take if you want it,” she said heading to the bedroom.

“Oh okay,” Kent said getting up and pulling clothes back on.

“No, put on your jeans. You’re shorts are covered in charcoal,” Larissa said reappearing. He threw his shorts at her and put on his jeans. She dropped his shorts into a laundry basket. He was perfectly capable of doing his own laundry, but neither Larissa or Shitty wanted him alone in the complex laundry room. He couldn’t really argue with that. 

“It’s hot,” Kent whined, mushing his sweaty hair down with a snapback. Larissa rolled her eyes, pushing Kent towards the door. 

“Don’t be a brat,” she said. “I’ve had to deal with bratty men all day,” she said locking the door. 

“What’s this place called again?”

“Swoops,” Larissa said. It was a two block walk that Kent wasn’t happy to be taking on a sweltering July day, but the job sounded easy enough considering he’d worked in a coffee shop last year. 

 

 

 

The shop was new with a stylized SWOOPS written on its navy awning. Inside was full of mismatch tables and cozy booths. There were bookshelves full of worn paperbacks and used textbooks. The lighting was all soft yellows and the music wasn’t anything Kent recognized. 

A few people looked up as they walked past to the counter at the back. The menu was full of things Kent had never heard of. When he drank coffee, it was cheap and black. He liked stuff with cinnamon in it, but couldn’t be bothered to make fancy coffee for himself. 

“Hey Ranch, this is Kent,” Larissa said to the girl behind the counter. She had bubblegum pink hair and skin dark as night. She grinned at Kent. 

“Swoops is in the back through that door,” she said pointing behind her. “Are you getting the regular Lardo?” Ranch asked. 

“Yeah, but I’m gonna wait for Shits to get here first,” Larissa said and gently nudged Kent towards the door. “Go on. Jeff is nice and chill,” she said. Kent nodded, heading into the back. He was surprised to find half the room looked like a lab and had two people arguing over a beaker. 

“Shut it Tally, the new kid is here,” the tall guy said. The short girl slammed the beaker down and stormed out a different door. The guy sighed and turned to Kent. “Sorry, I’m Jeff Troy,” he said holding out a hand to Kent. “I own and run this place. And I’d like to welcome you aboard assuming you want the job.”

“Yeah, I mean I guess I do?” Kent said shaking his hand. Jeff wasn’t very old, but looked rather tired. 

“Lardo is a good friend. So is Shits. And she told me that you’re pregnant and all that so I can keep any assholes away from you if you need that,” Jeff said. “I don’t think you’re anyones type either? Ranch likes girls and I don’t think Tally likes anyone. Bernando well I’m not really sure who they are into, but I’m pretty sure neither of us is into twinks,” Jeff said with a grin. 

“I am not a twink!” Kent snapped. He’d been working out to do his best not to look like a twink. 

Jeff laughed. “Sorry, sorry I’m just joking. I just like my men and women buff with meaty thighs and butts. Think hockey player. That’s my type.”

“Mmm,” Kent hummed, keeping his arms crossed. Jeff just shook his head. 

“Bernando and Ranch and I usually work out in front where you will be. I leave everything in the back to Tally because she’s a bridge troll or something.”

“Goblin!” Tally yelled as she flung the door open and stomped inside. “And I’m leaving for the day. Bye Swoops.”

“Bye Tally,” he called and went over to the supply side of the room and pulled out an apron. “You’ve got to wear your apron and wash your hands and stuff. We do a lot of dishes. I’m really bad at interviews,” he said with another laugh. “But Lardo said you worked in a coffee shop before?”

“Uh yeah I did. It was kind of like this,” Kent said taking the apron. 

“We do a lot of new and unique flavors which Tally usually creates after I have the idea, but if you’ve got ideas feel free to share with the class,” Jeff said, hands on his hips. He looked around. “She was trying to get me to drink tea hints of banana and she knows I only eat bananas if they are blended up in a smoothie.”

“I don’t really drink tea or coffee.”

“I thought you were an artist.”

“I am?” Kent said confused. 

“I thought artists lived off that stuff. Especially coffee.” 

“Well, I drank it, but I can live without it,” Kent told him. Jeff nodded. 

“Done anything famous?” Jeff asked with a laugh. 

Kent shrugged. “I have a lot of stuff that won awards and a lot of pieces in galleries and exhibits. I’ve sold a handful too to private collectors.”

“Oh well that’s pretty cool. Any subjects you like?”

“Yeah I like painting motion or emotions. I did a series of up close eye paintings and a series of ballet themed paintings. I really like Degas. The ballet ones I did were in tribute although my style is different,” Kent explained, trying to ignore the ache in his heart. Jack had been the last person to ask about what he painted. Jack had even seen some of the paintings. Kent gave him a list of galleries, but didn’t expect Jack to visit any of them. He did though and took pictures by Kent’s paintings. 

“Are you doing anything now?”

“Yeah I think. I’ve got a few things I’m working on.”

“Well, if you ever want to paint on the walls here or like hang something, I wouldn’t mind. I mostly collect prints from a local art show. Most are done by like Lardo and her friends.”

“Maybe you just want to profit from me,” Kent joked. Jeff shrugged. 

“I do pretty well, but I mean it can’t hurt? Are you that big of a deal?” Jeff asked holding the door open for Kent. The coffee shop seemed to have gotten fuller in a short amount of time. 

“I guess. The most I’ve sold a painting for was 88 thousand dollars,” Kent said unsure if he was meant to join Ranch or go back to Larissa. 

“WHAT?” Jeff actually shouted. 

“What?” Kent asked confused.

“I mean you!” Jeff said.

“Me what?” Kent asked. 

“That much money!” Jeff sputtered. 

“Oh,” Kent said and then gave him a smirk. “Yeah, I’m kind of a big deal.”

“I need to see this art. When we close though. Just because you’re rich and famous doesn’t mean I’m not going to work you to the bone,” Jeff said still looking slightly shocked. But he smiled and Kent would be a liar if he said he didn’t like the attention he got when people found out he was actually a big deal. 

Jack’s eyes had gotten huge and his mouth had fallen open a bit and then he’d kissed Kent so hard he saw stars. That night Jack kept whispering how amazing Kent was and talented and brilliant. When they laid in bed post sex Jack had asked about the galleries and Kent told him. He also asked to see Kent’s work and Kent showed him. 

With Jack, Kent wanted to be known and recognized for his hard work while Jack wanted all that taken away by Kent. They were different sides of the same whole and Kent was pretty sure that’s why Jack stuck around. Kent didn’t need him to be some big hockey star. And for Jack he could be the famous artist he longed to be and Jack loved it. He didn’t tell Kent to be someone else or do something else. He wanted Kent to be everything he wanted to be. And Kent had wanted Jack to be whoever he wanted to be even if it was some stuffy historian with a camera. 

Kent loved it so much. He loved everything with Jack so much. Everything fit like a puzzle that was finished when they were together. 


	4. Chapter 4

Larissa loved Moulin Rouge. She’d shown it to Kent first when he was fourteen and her family was tired of the movie. It was one of the most beautiful tragic love stories. The costumes motivated Kent to work in the costume department for the schools theater department and it was what interested him in focusing on costumes for a project. 

But it was the soundtrack that always sat in his mind and the soundtrack that had him replaying the movie over and over when he needed to not think about anything. 

Larissa and Shitty came home right before Spectacular, Spectacular and settled on the couch with him. It’d been a rather shit day for him. He got up early for work and managed to eat and not puke only to get sick during the lunch rush and feel like a huge let down to Swoops. 

Jeff had stood in the bathroom fanning Kent’s sweaty skin with a piece of thick cardboard telling him to stop apologizing. He even told Kent it was okay if he needed to head out early. Kent refused and got back to work when his stomach settled. Ranch and Bernando had him work the register. 

He zoned out the rest of his shift, almost running Tally over when she stood in his way. “Sorry,” he mumbled and she shook her head. 

“The sickness can be triggered by smell. I get nauseous when there are too many alphas clogging up the place,” she said holding out a tin canister. “You might not even notice it, but your body can react to the overwhelming amount of smell, so try this. Just two spoonfuls in some cold water and it’ll soothe your senses.”

Kent had watched her leave and then opened the tin. It smelled mostly like mint but there was something else underneath that he couldn’t pin point. He hoped it wasn’t something weird or gross. 

Ranch drove him home and talked about her summer project was finished and ready to be turned in. “I focused on androgyny and pushing gender norms through fashion,” she explained. “For a long time I thought I was just a girlie boy, you know? The whole transgender thing, I was so sure that wasn’t me until I finally met some people and it was like oh well duh I’m really a girl,” Ranch said with a laugh. “But the whole wearing what you want always interested me. I mean guys can get pregnant, but wearing a dress is too much for some people? And then you’ve got Bernando and people get mad that they can’t tell what they are? All of that kind of warped into this essay and mock ups,” Ranch explained. She parked outside of the apartment complex and looked at Kent. “Sorry, I can sometimes talk a lot.”

Kent shook his head. “It’s okay. It reminds me of my friend Annie who was super into fashion and she’d probably have tons of similar ideas. So, I’m used to hearing stuff like that talked about.”

“Okay,” Ranch said with a blinding smile. “I have to say it kind of hurts that you dress like a douchy jock bro.”

Kent laughed. “Yeah Larissa hates it too.”

“See you tomorrow, Kent,” she said and he got out. He nodded to her and headed up the steps. Larissa and Shitty would still be at the rink. Their first preseason game was next week, so they were kicking it into high gear. 

In the apartment, Kent got food and took his shirt and pants off. He still looked the same except his nipples were sore and rubbed against his shirt in an uncomfortable way. He did his best to ignore it, but taking off his shirt felt wonderful. 

He sat on the couch that wasn’t his bed and turned on the TV; flipping through channels until happily settling on Moulin Rouge which had just started. 

Kent scrolled through Falcs twitter. Jack was kind of like Satine being famous and all and Kent was just poor Christian looking for love. 

He chewed on his lip as he opened the NHL app, feeling like some kind of weirdo, stalker. But there was a brand new article linked to the Falcs page all about Jack. 

A lot of the hockey talk still didn’t make sense. There were stats thrown around and points referred to that Kent assumed were all good things from the tone of the article. It went on to say that, unlike his father, Jack appeared to be more stoic and silent. He listened attentively, but wasn’t one to show off on the ice. He was the same off the ice, quiet with his mind always on hockey. One commenter joked that they weren’t sure Jack had any interests outside of hockey or a personality for that matter. 

Kent threw his phone across the living room feeling heated. 

How fucking  _ dare _ those assholes? Of course there was more to Jack!

Kent watched as Christian fumbled around Satine in the Elephant Room. and then Ewan McGregor belted out the beginning of Your Song and Kent felt the hot tears roll down his cheeks. He took a deep breath, singing along to hopefully keep calm. 

But it was hard. He could recall all eight times the song came on while he was with Jack. Every single time Kent ignored the way his heart beat against his chest. Kent desperately wanted to tell Jack the song was for him. He wanted to say it and have Jack smile saying it was a wonderful song.

Kent would whisper all the words in Jack’s ear while he held him and Jack would sway and listen to Kent sing. And Jack would tell everyone, but then just to Kent he would say “I don’t mind” and smile the soft smile Kent loved. 

But instead he fucked off to the Falcs and all those moments, the ones Kent held dear, were just a fling for Jack. 

He quickly wiped his eyes as the front door banged open and Shitty’s hearty laugh filled the room. 

“Kent?! Kent guess what!” Shitty called as he appeared from the hall. 

“What?” Kent mumbled. 

“I got Lards to agree to make us her famous from scratch pizza tonight,” Shitty said with a grin, sliding onto the couch next to Kent. 

“It wasn’t a fair trade!” Larissa called. “Actually it was a bet,” she said sourly. 

“Said I had a connection who could get us pre-season Falconers tickets and she promptly called bullshit,” he laughed. “But I delivered and got us all tickets, if you want to go. I didn’t want to leave you out even if you’re meh about hockey. Games are still fun to go to.”

“It can be obnoxious though,” Larissa warned, opening the fridge. “So many apeshit fans.”

“Like you aren’t one too,” Shitty laughed. She stuck her tongue out at him, coming over to the couch and sitting on the other side of Kent. “Anyway, pizza? Falcs?”

“I have to go shopping so we can do pizza tomorrow. The game is Saturday,” Larissa told Kent. He stared at her, much like the Duke was staring at everyone singing Spectacular, Spectacular. Larissa and Shitty might as well have launch into a song and dance number to accompany everything they were saying.

The Falconers. A game. Jack. Jack would be there. Probably? Kent stared at her some more. He didn’t want to tell them that he’d been fooling around with Jack Zimmermann. That the baby was a Jack Zimmermann baby and they were both fucked if that got out. 

Fuck, what if Jack could smell him while he was there? Sure the cook temperatures dulled smells, but Kent knew how potent pregnant omega was. And what if Jack figured it out and told Kent to get rid of it? He didn’t think Jack would say that, but what if his Coach pressured him or something?

“Yeah I’ll go,” Kent said licking dry lips. He didn’t mean for the words to slip out. Going and seeing Jack was walking such a dangerous line.

But he needed to see Jack again.

 

==============================================================================

 

On the drive to Providence, Kent chewed almost all the way through the pencil he was drawing with. He told himself he was NOT going to draw Jack, but he drew Jack anyway. Well, parts of Jack. His large, calloused hands, his soft, sleepy eyes, his lush lips and the slope of his nose. 

Then he tried to sleep. He hadn’t slept well during the night, but hadn’t gotten sick in the morning so that counted for something. But every time he shut his eyes in the car he saw Jack leaving for the last time. 

He knew going to the game was a terrible idea. There was no way he could win. Either Jack wouldn’t notice him or he’d ignore him. Kent was no one. Jack would probably think he was some weirdo stalker or something. 

“You okay Kent?” Shitty asked turning around. He met Larissa’s worried gaze in the rear view mirror. He was probably giving off all sorts of distressed signals. 

Kent shrugged. “I’m fine just a little nauseous I guess,” he said. It wasn’t a complete lie. Kent put his palm against his stomach. He’d been calling the bun raspberry since Dr. Andrews said that was how big it was. Kent liked raspberries. 

The other two nodded and turned around. Even if Kent wanted to see Jack or talk to Jack, it was better to not. He didn’t want to risk him knowing about the raspberry and getting angry or upset. 

No, just seeing Jack again would be enough. Another glance at him before his life officially started and Kent began to find his footing in his own. Maybe one day he’d track down Jack and they could have a laugh about how stupid they’d been. 

But for now the raspberry was Kent’s and Kent’s alone. 

 

The rink was freezing. Farber was cold, but the Falcs rink felt like actual Antarctica. 

With Shitty’s tickets, they got in ahead of the line while the team was going to be warming up. 

Kent walked behind the pair, bundled in an oversized Falconer’s sweatshirt while Larissa wore number 33 St. Martin and Shitty wore number 7 Mashkov. They’d talked a lot about the players in the car, but Kent only tuned in when Jack’s name was mentioned. He was apparently living with St. Martin and was featured a lot in Mashkov’s Instagram stories. 

It took forever for Kent to finally find his Instagram and he was delighted to see three pictures with Jack in them. One was taken at what looked like some kind of pool party and while everyone else looked relaxed, Jack looked awkward. Another was Jack and Mashkov in a car. And the third was a group shot of everyone in nice suits, except it had to be an outtake because people had their eyes shut and mouths open. It was captioned “behind the scenes” in Russian. 

Kent kept his head down as they walked through the stadium, but it was hard to miss the giant Zimmermann banner they passed. He almost took a picture and he’d faked his interest in Jack as “he’s basically my age so he’s who I decided to be a fan of and it helps that he’s good”. Larissa had found out he was following Jack on Instagram. He felt his cover was weak, but she bought it.

“We are sitting here?!” Kent exclaimed when they stopped by the glass.

“Yeah,” Shitty said with a grin. “I told you they were worth Lardo’s pizza. They’re probably worth three pizzas,” he added wiggling his eyebrows. Larissa rolled her eyes.

“You got one. Be happy about it,” she said and took a seat. Kent sat and took some deep breaths. He was definitely going to be seen, even if by accident, by Jack and that’d be BAD. But where was he supposed to go? The bathrooms smelled and he didn’t want security to accidentally think he was a threat because he was wandering around suspiciously. 

He sank into his seat. They were at a corner and Kent prayed it was the other teams corner, but he doubted he’d be that lucky. 

Kent tucked a hand in the front pocket of his sweatshirt and pressed his palm to the raspberry again. He was probably sending out distress signals. He’d read that too much stress was bad for the raspberry, but he didn’t know how much was too much because he was pretty sure if he wasn’t careful he was going to spiral into a panic attack. 

The announcer caused Kent to nearly jump out of his skin and then the Falcs were rocketing out onto the ice. 

Nervously, Kent took off his hat running his hand through his hair. He didn’t smell Jack, but the announcer was talking about them as the team hooked around and headed straight for Kent’s corner. 

_ He won’t smell you _ . Kent thought trying desperately to believe himself. The Falconer’s were skating right towards him and there was no where for him to run. 

So Kent held his breath. 

The first few passed and then there was Zimms, skating right into view with the lot of them. His face was twisted in determination, eyes glancing up as he passed. He caught Kent’s eye for a split second before whipping around and causing the next four teammates to run into him and each other. Two went sprawling while Jack just looked dazed. The captain was yelling. A lot of people were yelling, but Jack was looking past them at Kent with an unreadable expression. 

Kent sank low in his chair while the crowd murmured in confusion. Jack was still looking at him even though the captain was pushing him away. Mashkov was seriously fucking huge. He wasn’t yelling anymore and got Jack to look at him meaning he was no longer looking at Kent. Kent wondered what Mashkov was saying. Jack was nodding along and they finally skated off to join the rest of the team. 

“Seriously, what was that?” Shitty asked with a laugh. “Poor Jack is never going to live that fuck up down.”

“He could have hurt someone,” Larissa said. “Turning around like that. I mean I kind of want to yell at him too.”

“Eh I bet he’s just nervous and not thinking,” Shitty said with a shrug. He turned to Kent. “Whatever that was, it never happens. Thank god this is preseason or he’d probably be pulled for a stunt like that.”

“Yeah,” Kent said feeling like shit for getting Jack into trouble, even if indirectly. 

He watched them warm up, trying not to pay sole attention to number 1 who at least seemed to have his head back in the game and wasn’t looking at Kent anymore. Kent had never been to a professional hockey game and found it wasn’t that different than high school hockey. 

Sports might not be his thing, but he’d been to a handful of various sporting events for the best part; muscular boys. He also gone to girls events to support his equally as gay female friends. 

He still didn’t know what was going on. Only once Jack had asked him to turn on a game and they’d watched it together. The more he thought about it, it might have been a Falcs game. Jack had sat rigid and frowning the entire time even though they were winning the whole time and the announcers were saying positive things. 

During the breaks, Jack rambled to Kent. Mostly stuff that didn’t make sense, but Kent liked listening to Jack ramble and piece together his thoughts. He listened to Jack ramble about many things. His sentences were always terribly disjointed and he had a habit of interrupting himself to go on a tangent, but Kent always listened intently whether it was history or photography or how certain songs felt like certain people to him. 

Like he’d said Africa by Toto always felt like his mom. He wasn’t big into music, but Jack had a song for everyone important. Kent was always too afraid to ask if he was important enough for a song. 

The game officially started and Kent immediately noted Jack was out there front and center. 

He was hard to follow and the Falcs spent most of the time on the other side of the rink. At 5 minutes, Jack was smashed against the glass near Kent. It looked like a hard hit, but Jack didn’t looked phased as he got the puck to a teammate and shot Kent a spare glance before skating off. 

Mashkov scored at 10 minutes and the stadium went wild. The Falcs skated past their bench and around, this time Jack  _ and  _ Mashkov looked at Kent. Kent wanted to disappear. His watched as the captain said something to Jack and Jack nodded. It was probably about how Kent was a huge stalker. 

“You okay? You’re looking kind of sick and distress,” Shitty said. Kent shrugged. 

“Maybe I’m hungry,” Kent said and stood up. “I’m going to get food,” he said quickly and sprinted up the steps.

Being away from the rink eased his tension and he did decide to wait in the food line. “What are you in the mood for, Raspberry?” he asked, resting his hands on his stomach. He ignored the way his mind filled in Jack and read over the menu. 

He decided to only get some M&Ms and took a seat on a nearby bench. Chocolate was supposed to be good when a person was having a crisis, right?

Kent ate them one at a time regretting leaving his sketch book in the car. He saved the blue M&Ms for last because that’s what Jack did. He said the blue ones were lucky because there were never that many in a bag. So they went last. Kent had four blue ones.

He ate them and felt sad. 

Kent killed time in the bathroom and then wandered around until the buzzer sounded for the end of the first period. Talk about the longest nine minutes Kent thought bitterly. 

He was walking back to his seat when his name was broadcast over the loud speaker and he knew that was it. Jack was having him thrown out or arrested for stalking. 

“KENT PARSON PLEASE REPORT TO THE SECURITY DESK BY THE MAIN ENTRANCE. KENT PARSON PLEASE REPORT TO THE SECURITY DESK BY THE MAIN ENTRANCE.” 

He briefly considered ignoring the page, but he didn’t really like the idea of police showing up at his seat to haul him away. So he trudged to the security desk.

“Uh I’m Kent Parson,” he said to the woman behind the counter. 

“Oh! Can I see some ID?” she asked. Kent handed his driver’s license over. She looked at him and then the ID and then him again. “Aaron? Aaron I found him,” she said into a walkie talkie. 

“Am I under arrest?” Kent asked. Would he get deported? He was born in America, but had moved to Canada before he was three months old. 

“What?” the woman asked confused as a tall, blonde man in a suit jogged up. 

“Are you Kent Parson?” he asked. 

“Uh yeah…” Kent said and the man held out his hand. 

“I’m Aaron Scott and work in the Falconer’s PR department. Jack Zimmermann asked for you by name, so I wanted to invite you back after the game if you’d like.”

Kent stared open mouthed. Jack didn’t seem like the kind of person to tell him off to his face, so maybe he was luring Kent back there so that the captain could. 

“I’m with friends,” Kent said at last. 

“Jack said he thought you were and that they could come too,” Aaron said. “I’ll meet you at the info desk in the main area of the game okay? If we somehow miss each other then come find Lorraine here and she can reach me.” 

“So you aren’t throwing me out?” Kent asked just to be totally clear. 

“What?” Aaron asked confused. “Why would we do that? Jack nearly wiped out going into the locker room. Tater sent someone to get me because Jack was all out of sorts. He said I needed to find you because he didn’t have your US number.”

“Oh,” Kent said. He guessed that was true. Although to be fair, he didn’t have Jack’s number either. 

“Are you a friend from Quebec? The artist?”

“What?” Kent asked startled that he’d know. 

“He said he had a friend in Quebec who was an artist. We asked what the first thing he was going to buy was and he said a painting.”

“Yeah I’m an artist,” Kent said rather stunned. He’d gotten an email about one of his paintings selling, but there hadn’t been a name of the buyer. 

Aaron laughed. “The guys give him shit for it, but it’s beautiful. Marty showed us all a photo of it.”

“Oh thanks,” Kent said feeling himself blush. He desperately wanted to go through his email to see what painting it was. Knowing Jack bought it made it important. 

“So I’ll meet you at the info desk?”

“Yeah after the game. I’ll be there,” Kent said. He smiled and waved Kent off as the buzzer for the second period went off.

 

“Why the fuck were they asking for you?!” Larissa shouted at Kent. “I called you six times! I thought you were dead!” 

“Sorry I just… I don’t know but we’ve been invited to meet Jack after the game,” Kent said in a rush, sitting down and pulling his hood up. He felt both nervous nauseous and jittery excited nauseous. 

“What?!” Larissa and Shitty both exclaimed. Kent shrugged, pulling out his phone, hoping they’d get the hint that he didn’t want to talk. Both started pestering him with questions immediately. 

Kent scrolled through his email, opening the one from the art venue to read the message. 

“ _ EYES 1 - SELF PORTRAIT” _

The opening chords to Fly Away by Lenny Kravitz broke through the cheers as the Falcs scored for the second time while Kent stared at his phone in shock. 

The crowd roared and Kent heard them announce Jack’s name. He looked up at the Falconers skated into view. 

“And that’s how you do it folks! A beautiful shot right into the net from number 1, rookie Jack Zimmermann!” 

Kent caught Jack’s eye as he skated past. He nodded and Jack nodded back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter, but prepare to have a lot of Feelings.

****

Kent felt overly nauseous following Aaron Scott. His heart was in his throat and pounding away so hard he was afraid he’d choke. It seemed like it was going to be a civil meeting of friends, but once Jack realized Kent was pregnant it was sure to be a shit show.

Larissa and Shitty followed, quietly chatting, but the look Larissa was giving him meant she’d figured it out. She was just being polite and not harassing Kent about it. Yet. 

It felt like a walk to the gallows even though he entertained Aaron with idle chatter. He admitted he wasn’t really the hockey fan, but had definitely enjoyed the game. Aaron asked where he met Jack and Kent said they frequented some of the same places in Quebec City because they didn’t live far from each other. 

Kent kept his hands balled into fists inside his sweatshirt pocket, afraid that if he relaxed even a fraction he’d have a mental breakdown. Jack might have bought one of his paintings, but Kent was a time bomb that could literally ruin Jack’s career. Or even just Jack. 

Kent almost changed his mind, but realized too late that they were in a meeting room near the locker room. 

“Wait here, I’ll go get Jack,” Aaron said and Kent all but collapsed into one of the plastic chairs set around a small folding table. 

“We are discussing this in the car, Kent,” Larissa said sternly. He picked at the table edge and didn’t look at her. 

“I fucking figured,” he muttered in response. 

The door opened again and Kent watched the Captain and Jack enter. 

It was like all the air was sucked out of the room, the way Jack entered and looked at Kent. Everything kind of melted away when he looked at Jack. His skin was pink and his hair was damp. He wore a loose Falcs shirt and a backwards hat. Kent even liked seeing his stupid socks and slides combination. It was such a jock thing, but such a Jack thing. 

He stood to meet Jack. Jack stopped, eyes searching for a moment and Kent held his breath. 

“Hold me,” Jack whispered in Quebecois. The words slipping off his tongue just like old times. Kent felt like he’d been hit with lightning and it forced him to open his arms, snaking them around Jack’s torso. Around his broad shoulders, one hand pressed between shoulder blades and the other against the back of his neck where the hair was always soft under Kent’s fingertips. 

Jack tucked his face against Kent’s neck, putting his hands against Kent’s lower back. He breathed deeply and Kent wanted to burst into tears. He was going to figure it out and the spell was going to be broken. 

His eyes watered as he pressed his face to Jack’s muscled shoulder. Even after a shower, Kent could smell Jack. They’d scented each other plenty of times, but never talked about it. Always pretending that they weren’t attached. Always pretending that they didn’t want to inhale each others scents until they couldn’t smell anything else. 

Kent stood with Jack in his arms for a moment willing the tears away. He had to say something, something that would make it all okay. 

“I didn’t mean to leave like that,” Jack whispered in Quebecois. “I never should have but I felt like I was going to have a nervous breakdown and didn’t want you to see it.”

“Did you?” Kent whispered in Quebecois. 

“I cried a lot,” Jack told him. “I meant to leave you my new number and forgot because I was such a mess. I was functioning on autopilot. Later, Tater told me about a way I could contact you through an App, but then your number was disconnected. I wanted to tell you happy birthday.”

Kent smiled, he hoped he kept the strain out of his voice when he said, “Happy birthday to you too Zimms.”

“I bought your art. They said to spend my first paycheck on something nice. I got chirped to hell and back for picking art.”

Kent laughed. “Yeah I bet, but you didn’t need to buy my stuff.”

“Mmm,” Jack hummed pressing his nose against Kent’s skin. “You smell so good,” Jack murmured almost too quiet for Kent to hear. Kent swallowed thickly. Jack was going to figure it out. He should  _ tell  _ Jack before he put it together, but Kent couldn’t get the words out. They sat in his throat choking him while Jack pressed his lips to Kent’s neck. 

Kent’s knees felt weak. He clung to Jack to keep from doing something stupid like collapsing. But Jack’s breath was hot against his neck and his heart was thudding in his chest. 

“Zimboni,” the Captain finally said making Jack look up from Kent. Kent kept staring at Jack’s shoulder, unable to look at anyone else in the room. Even if Jack hadn’t figured it out yet, he was sure everyone else had. And the shame was like a fire at Kent’s feet waiting to catch and consume him.

“I gotta go, Zimms,” Kent said softly, in English. He dared to look at Jack’s eyes in that moment. All he saw was exhaustion and sadness. He wanted to kiss him and whisper that it was okay. Kiss him until Jack melted in his arms and relaxed. Kent had been good at doing that. 

Jack stared at Kent. “Let me give you my US number,” Jack said in Quebecois. 

“Okay,” Kent said letting his arms fall away from Jack. It made him want to cry all over again. “I’ll give you mine too,” he said in Quebecois. Jack nodded. Kent pulled out his phone and entered Jack’s new number while telling himself that even though he had it, it didn’t mean anything. The whole thing between them was no strings attached. 

And… it hadn’t gone that way but without labels, without committing fully to each other, without choosing to be mates, Kent didn’t really have any claim to Jack. Just the remnants of a handful of wonderful months.

And a raspberry.

Kent texted Jack so that Jack would have his number. Their goodbye hug was short and the burn in Kent’s eyes was back. He made a mental list of all the things Jack smelled like to repeat to himself while he walked away.

Kent made it to the car before completely losing it. 

He couldn’t stop the tears both sad and angry that fell like a flood down his face. 

“Come on, let’s get in the car. I’ll sit in the back with you,” Larissa said softly, guiding a nearly hysterical Kent into the car. She buckled him in and then let him bury his face against her chest. He wasn’t sure how long he cried, but he felt dried out when he was done. Dried out and numb.

“So, Jack Zimmermann,” Larissa said petting Kent’s hair. 

“Yeah,” Kent said weakly. He stared at the wet spot he’d made on her jersey. 

“Mashkov put it together, but I don’t know if Jack did. He didn’t seem like he did,” Larissa said. 

“Yeah,” Kent said. Larissa sighed. 

“I’m not saying you need to tell him, but if you rekindle whatever that was then I think should.”

“Yeah.”

The rest of the car ride was silent. 

 

 

 

Kent spent the rest of the night on his back staring at the ceiling. Jack had texted him in the car, but Kent had felt too raw to reply. He’d said it was nice to see Kent. A simple six word sentence that only tore Kent’s heart a little more than Jack already had before. 

He repeated his list of Jack’s scent almost able to smell it. His sweatshirt had smelled like Jack, but it was too hot in the apartment to wear it and Larissa told him she was pretty sure it was triggering all the crying. So now it sat in a pile on the floor while Kent ran his palm over his stomach.

He compose and rewrote a text in his head explaining everything to Jack. The words never sounded right though. He wasn’t a writer. 

Kent briefly thought about painting or drawing what he wanted to say, but the thought of sitting or standing sounded too exhausting. 

Kent got up to eat around 4 AM and considered waking Larissa and Shitty. Or climbing into bed between them like a small child. 

He wandered to the bathroom. He looked like shit in the mirror. His eyes were red and puffy. His face was blotchy and even in the dim light he could see the tear tracks over his cheeks. Kent scowled and went to go to the bathroom. 

“LARISSA!” he screamed from where he was seated. “LARISSA!” he cried. 

“What?! What?! What?!” she yelled, flinging open the bathroom door. Kent was crying again. 

“There’s blood! What if I killed my raspberry?! There’s blood and what if all my emotions killed my raspberry! I don’t want my raspberry to die!!” Kent shrieked at her. Larissa knelt down so they were eye level.

“Shhh Kent. Shhh it’s only like two little drops. Sometimes people have spotting during pregnancy, okay. It’s just a little bit, but if you want we can go to the emergency room,” she said softly, wiping his cheeks with her thumbs. “It’s been a long, stressful day, but you still reek of pregnancy. If you want to check, we will go though.”

“Dr. Andrews said there could be spotting,” Kent hiccuped. Larissa nodded, holding his face in her hands so that he had to look at her. 

“Yes. It can be a common occurrence. It’s just been an emotional day,” she said kissing his forehead. “Now come on, I’ll rub your back until you fall asleep.”

“I can’t sleep,” Kent said. Larissa smiled.

“You know I’m magic and can make anyone fall asleep,” she said standing up. “Come on.”

Kent finished in the bathroom and then went to lie with Larissa in his bed. She held his sweatshirt and once he was lying down, she tucked it in his arms like a stuffed animal. “Shut your eyes,” she told him and he obeyed. 

Larissa slowly stroked his back and over his arms almost like the way Jack had done before. Kent held his sweatshirt tighter. The more he relaxed and thought about the movements of Larissa’s hands, the more he was able to pretend it was Jack and drift off to sleep. 


	6. 12 Weeks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I just love writing this story and planned out three future chapters that are going to be absolutely great!! (Great ready because one is at week 20 which is coming up~) And honestly, thank you all so much for reading. 
> 
> ***This chapter starts with brief sexual content just FYI.

Kent loved the ways Jack fucked him, but he also loved going down on Jack. After seeing him, all Kent could dream about was Jack’s hot and heavy cock on his tongue and the way Jack would always push Kent. He’d card his fingers through Kent’s hair as he slowly inched his fat cock past Kent’s swollen lips.

Kent’s eyes would water and alarms would go off in his head, but he took it all greedily. Relishing in the way Jack tasted and filled his mouth so perfectly. 

When he wasn’t dreaming about blowing Jack, Jack was eating Kent out, face covered and dripping as he sucked on Kent’s dick and licked all the way down to his asshole. Sometimes Jack would open up Kent’s cunt and sometimes his ass. Either was perfect, but having Jack fuck him hard in the ass from behind was exhilarating. Jack would pound into him while Kent was up on his knees, arms bent back to pull Jack’s hair. 

And Jack was great at multitasking, keeping one hand buried three fingers deep in his cunt with his thumb rubbing into Kent’s dick with each harsh thrust. His other hand held Kent’s mouth open, fingers pressed down on his tongue while Kent panted helplessly. Spit and drool dripped onto his chest, but Jack liked things messy. And Kent let him be as messy as he wanted. Where he hated how slippery wet he got sometimes, Jack loved it. 

The dreams were vivid and let Kent with the only choice of shoving his hand down his underwear and taking care of himself. His breasts were like mangos on his chest and his nipples were always raw and sensitive. He’d wake up and wish he had Jack to soothe him. Jack’s hand in his pants and on his chest. 

Instead, Kent only had his own hand. 

 

On a sweaty, late August morning, when the clouds were dark and fat in the skies, Kent’s belly finally showed off his little plum. The tea from Tally had helped the morning sickness a lot and Kent was slowly gaining weight. 

His stomach was a small bump right above the waistband of his boxer briefs. At his 12 week check up, Dr. Andrews had said it was taking him a bit longer to start showing, but it was nothing to be worried about. The baby was developing properly and that was all that really mattered. 

Larissa bought him sports bras with a special lining that wouldn’t chafe, but when Kent was in the apartment, he spent most of the time in only his boxers. 

The little bump was new, but he already found himself resting his hand there when he painted. Dr. Andrews said he should start thinking about whether he wanted to know the sex of the baby or not. Kent knew his parents hadn’t found out about him and they’d just chosen a color scheme. Creamy pastel orange and baby chick yellow. His parents had told him that since he was going to be born in the summer, they wanted him to look like a tasty summer treat. 

In Quebec City, Kent had a friend with an older sister and he’d gone to that baby shower. Her husband had tattooed the compass on Kent’s chest after he’d seen the piece at an art fair done by his friend Jonny Luck. 

Jonny’s sister had a gender reveal party for her baby. It was a little girl that they named Amelia Bunny Luck. Kent thought the name was weird until Jonny told him Bunny was their grandmother. 

Kent had no idea what he was supposed to name his plum. 

He tried to figure it out, staring in the mirror and looking at things he liked. He liked direction, he liked movement, he liked fluidity, he liked eyes, and he liked Jack. But none of that was a name for a baby. 

 

Shitty drove him to work since it was raining, and Jeff was the first to congratulate Kent on showing. Ranch insisted they throw some kind of celebration, but Kent said maybe down the line. It was only a plum. There was still a long road ahead. 

“So, Bernando went to like one of those Jewish dinners for the Jewish kids on Campus,” Ranch told Kent. Work was slow with the rain and Jeff and Tally could be heard arguing in the back. “They were saying the Rabbi’s wife cooks all this homemade food and it’s wonderful because most of them don’t cook. At least I know Bernando doesn’t because they hate even making something simple like eggs, but anyway they invited me to the next different right before the semester starts.”

“Are you Jewish?” Kent asked. Ranch shook her head. 

“Bernando said that didn’t matter though,” she said. “I’m excited for the food. I’ve had some before. There was this Jewish family at the end of the street. They were kind of looked at weird because they were black like all of us, but didn’t go to our Parrish and that was weird for the adults,” Ranch said. She was from outside of Baton Rouge, Louisiana. “But anyway, my grandma was always over there because his grandma was the only other elderly person on the block who cooked, so we’d eat there sometimes. Ate some weird mixes man. Whatever spices they put into the Matzah Ball Soup, I don’t think I’m going to be having that,” she laughed. 

“Jack’s Jewish,” Kent remembered. 

“Who’s Jack?” Ranch asked. Kent stared at her realizing he’d said it outloud.

“Oh a friend,” Kent said lightly. Since he’d seen Jack they’d exchanged eleven texts. Nothing substantial, mostly them saying they wished the other well. It was mildly frustrating and the only comfort Kent had was it was exactly how Jack had texted before.

“Ooo is he the baby daddy?” Ranch asked. She grinned wide. The entire coffee shop lived off gossip.

“What are we talking about up here?” Swoops asked bursting through the door. He leaned against the counter on the other side of Kent. 

“Kent’s friend Jack,” Ranch said. Kent rolled his eyes.

“Oooo who’s Jack? I wasn’t aware you had other friends outside of Lardo and Shits,” Swoops said with a cheeky laugh. Kent rolled his eyes again.

“Jack is no one,” Kent said.

“Mhmm, does Kenny have a crush?” Swoops teased.

“No,” Kent said firmly, but felt his face heat. He absently placed his hand on his plum.

“I think it’s the baby daddy. Or mommy. Is he an alpha?” Ranch asked. Kent ignored her. “Alphas always smell so good. There’s this girl in my major group and walking by her leaves my knees weak. She smells like mint that makes you feel like you’re on top of mountains.”

“So, what does Jack smell like?” Swoops asked. Kent shrugged. 

“Haven’t really paid attention,” Kent lied. He could tell Swoops saw right through him, but Ranch whined asking for details on Jack. He refused to give them. 

 

The rain continued well into the night leaving the apartment feeling soupy. Kent had various self portrait sketches lying around him on his bed. Larissa had taken pictures of the bump, but Kent wanted to draw it. It made him feel less distressed about the changes to his body. It helped him focus on things he did like. Like how the arrows of his compass were untouched by his small breasts or how the bump was small and always warm. He liked that he could finally see his plum. 

When his sketches were done, Kent browsed the web for Hebrew names. Would Jack want a Hebrew name? Kent wasn’t raised with religion, so he had no loyalties, but he wasn’t sure if Jack did. 

He put his phone on his chest, eyes tired. The rain was a soft rush under the hum of the fan. Jeff had texted him after work to say if Kent ever needed him to talk to Ranch about pushing too much, but Kent assured him it wasn’t a problem. Ranch wasn’t a problem. She just wanted to know everything. 

But Kent didn’t know how to share about Jack. Most of his friends in QC just knew that he was seeing a guy for a regular fuck and left it at that. Since high school started, Kent was known to be kind of a slut. He didn’t have  _ that  _ many partners, it was more he was down to suck dick whenever. He had regulars that came and went. 

His friends from the LGBT Center said it was because he went to a private school and the uniform made them all horny fucks. Kent shrugged and said it was because he was in his prime. His art friends understood that. Or at least humored him more than lecture him about safe sex and STIs. 

Fat lot of help it did him in the end though because he’d thought he was immune to the fine fucking print. 

Kent pulled up his and Jack’s text conversation. 

_ Show me what you’re looking at right now.  _ Jack had said at 8 in the morning. Kent snapped a picture of his large ocean painting knowing the picture didn’t do it’s size justice. He was detailing the spray when Jack texted. He hadn’t said anything after Kent texted him though. 

It was frustrating. Jack was frustrating, but not enough for Kent to text again.

He thought about texting Jeff. As they’d been cleaning up shop, Jeff told Kent he was there for him if he ever did need to talk about something like the baby or whoever Jack was. Kent thanked him, but again didn’t know how to open up about Jack. 

It was hard even talking about it was Larissa and Shitty. 

Kent put his phone down again and turned on his side. He tucked an arm under his head and then rested his other across his belly. 

Boys were stupid.

 

 

 

“HA! Shitty you owe me ten fucking dollars!” Kent woke up to Larissa yelling into her bedroom. Kent rubbed his eyes and stared at her. He wanted at least ten more years of sleep. 

“Why are you yelling?” he asked as Larissa skipping into the kitchen and started the coffee pot. 

“I just won ten dollars,” she laughed. “I fucking  _ told  _ Shits you’d start nesting with art supplies and I was fucking right!” 

Kent looked at his bed. His open sketch books and free page sketches created a nice semi circle around him and he was pretty sure his pencil case was what was currently digging into his ass. 

Larissa came into the living room and sat on the edge of his bed. “It’s an omega thing,” she said. “But also a pregnancy thing,” she added. “I still think you should move into our room or let us fix the art room for you.”

“I need an art space,” Kent said. When Larissa first suggested it the thought of losing the art room caused Kent to burst into tears. It was embarrassing. 

“We can… well, then take our room,” she said. “It’s only for now. Our lease is up again in December because this place sucks, but you need something more private for now. To nest. Our next place will have three rooms, but please.”

“We could just put up curtains or something,” Kent said with a shrug. “Move the pullout into the corner and section it off.”

“Okay, but I don’t want you to feel too exposed or vulnerable,” Larissa said moving his sketchbooks aside so she could cuddle up to him. 

“I’ll be okay,” he said. 

“Then we will go today and get curtains or something. And then linens and blankets for proper nesting,” she said. Kent whined. 

“But it’s too hot for blankets,” Kent growned. 

“Yeah, and I know you aren’t my omega, but my alpha instinct is screaming that this is not an acceptable nest.”

“Fine, fine,” Kent told her and see kissed the top of his head before hopping up to yell at Shitty to get the fuck up. Kent gathered up his sketches and arranged them to take a picture of for instagram. He hadn’t drawn his face, just his body from the neck down with no real identifying marks. He left out the sketches with the compass. 

He posted the photo with a date in the caption and then clicked over to Jack’s instagram. There was nothing new, so Kent went to Mashkov’s. The only new thing pleased Kent as it was a picture of a birthday cake with Jack’s name on it. 

Kent liked the picture before realizing that could be weird. He shut instagram and got up to go to the bathroom before he made more bad choices. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, baby name won't be revealed until Kent gives birth and he doesn't know yet if he wants to know the gender or have it be a surprise.


	7. 16 weeks

Kent watched Jack’s newest interview. The Falcs season started soon and Jack was slated to be a starter. Jack was asked how he felt about being a rookie starter and Jack had gotten his concentration face on and stared at the interviewer for a moment before saying he felt like the song How Far We’ve Come by Matchbox Twenty. 

The interviewer was confused but Jack just insisted he couldn’t put it into words other than that. 

When the interview ended, Kent texted Jack  _ I didn’t know you knew the names of songs or an artist. _

Jack responded fast saying the song was played over and over at the rink where he played in Q. 

When Kent listened to the song it made a lot of sense; the world ending and Jack Zimmermann failing to react properly. So, Kent asked if he felt nervous or anxious. Jack told him yes. 

Kent’s thumb hovered over the call icon. It was the middle of the afternoon and he didn’t know what Jack was doing or if he’d want Kent to call, but Kent called anyway. He held his breath waiting to go to voicemail.

But Jack answered. “Hey,” he murmured sounding tired. 

“Hey,” Kent echoed. “I uh… your anxiety… I was calling to check on you.”

“Oh,” Jack said sounding surprised. “My doctor upped my dose for now,” Jack said switching to Quebecois. 

“Oh okay… uh be careful though… you said addiction ran in your family,” Kent said in Quebecois. 

“I forgot I told you that,” Jack said softly. Kent rubbed a hand over his bump. Telling Jack now would only make him more anxious.

“You sound tired Zimms,” Kent said and Jack sighed. 

“It’s hard to sleep sometimes,” Jack admitted. 

“You tried jerking off?” Kent asked and Jack laughed.

“Yeah, but it’d be better with your hands Parse.” Jack’s words went straight to Kent’s dick and he let out a heavy breath. We they doomed to resort to sex only? Kent wanted more than that. “Tell me about what you’re painting,” Jack said surprising Kent. Kent looked at the canvas in front of him wondering if he should lie or not. 

“A pregnant belly,” Kent said at last, leaving out that it was his pregnant belly. 

“Mmm,” Jack hummed. “One of the guys, his wife is pregnant and she smells lovely. It’s such a nice smell, pregnant omega,” Jack said. Kent knew that was his opening to say it. 

But he couldn’t out of fear that he’d lose Jack forever. Whatever they were currently doing, he could pretend he was content with it. 

“Are you going to post it on your instagram?” Jack asked. Kent blanched.

“What?”

“Oh I looked you up online and found your instagram. I’d follow you but I don’t remember my login or password.”

Kent had a thousand things to say to that, but first and foremost was that Jack was looking at his instagram!! Red alert!!! “You spying on me, Zimms?” Kent joked. 

“Gotta make sure there are no other guys,” Jack teased, but Kent felt his heart beat faster. Did Jack NOT WANT Kent to be seeing someone else? He could just be teasing, but Kent wanted to believe Jack actually cared about him. 

Kent laughed, hoping he sounded relaxed. “After being fucked by someone as fit as you other guys don’t really cut it,” he said casually. Jack laughed. 

“Would you come to another one of my games?” Jack asked. “I’d send you tickets for your and your friends,” he added. Kent paused, rubbing a hand over his stomach. Jack’s first game was the day of Kent’s 20 week check up. If he didn’t know Kent was pregnant before, he’d definitely know then. 

Kent swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yeah Zimms, of course I’d go to your games.”

“Maybe you could come the day before and we could hang out,” Jack said sounding hopeful. Or maybe Kent just wanted him to sound hopeful. He felt like he was going to cry. 

“Of course,” Kent said. “But not opening night, I’ve got work that day.”

“Okay. I’ll pick a good game,” Jack said. There was a moment of silence. “Is it weird that I don’t want to hang up?” Jack whispered.

“No,” Kent said, the lump in his throat growing bigger. “I don’t either. But I gotta go. Take care of yourself, Zimms. Make sure you’re eating and sleeping properly.”

“I will. I’m going to go eat something now,” Jack said. “Talk to you later, Parse.”

“Bye Zimms,” Kent said and listened to the call disconnect. Kent stared at his phone for a moment before getting up and going to his bed. He curled up and tucked his legs around the giant U shaped pillow Shitty had bought him.

He called his mom.

“Hello?” she asked. 

“It’s Kent,” he mumbled. 

“Oh hi sweetie. How is Larissa?” she asked. 

“Good. I uh…” he trailed off unsure of why he really called. He felt like he just needed to tell someone he was pregnant and complain, but now that he’d called he wasn’t sure it was a good idea. 

“I’m at work sweetie,” she told Kent. He picked at the wall.

“I got pregnant,” he muttered. 

“We guessed as much,” his mother said. “Do you know who got you pregnant?”

“Yeah,” Kent said already feeling slightly annoyed. 

“I take it you’re carrying the baby to term. What is your plan afterwards? I know a lot of people who could help with adoption.”

“I’m keeping the baby. I have money from my art,” Kent said defensively. 

“Yes and that will go fast. Children are expensive. The money you make isn’t consistent enough to raise a child on. And you’re living with Larissa and her boyfriend who are both studying. Bringing a baby into that environment isn’t fair to them,” she said. 

“They respect my choice,” Kent muttered. 

“I know your body is going through a lot and it makes you think you want to keep this baby, but that isn’t always the best option. Especially as a single parent who is only 18. Don’t expect me and your father to pay for this child while you run around painting and wasting your life.”

“I don’t expect you to. I can do it,” Kent insisted. His mother sighed. 

“Be rational Kent. There are plenty of adults out there who are ready to take care of a baby. They have jobs and they aren’t an 18 year old who ran away from responsibility.”

Kent felt his eyes burning. “I just wanted to tell you that I was pregnant mama. Bye,” he said and hung up before she said more. He sobbed into his pillow wishing he hadn’t called her. He just wanted her to tell him she was excited or proud or something other than a lecture in her disappointed voice. 

He got up going into the kitchen to find something to eat while furiously rubbing tears from his eyes. He wanted to call Jack again. Tell Jack all about how shit his parents could be sometimes. 

Instead, he sat at the table nursing a soothie and posting his current work in progress on instagram. People had really liked his pregnant sketches and a lot of people guessed he had someone in his life. It made Kent both happy and sad. He liked that people didn’t assume it was him, but he worried about Jack being one of those people.

Kent went and got Larissa old laptop he’d been using and pulled up his website. He didn’t update it often, but used it to dump pictures of his work. Sometimes he’d write blog posts and he often updated for events, but he hadn’t done either in awhile. 

So after dumping photos, he pulled up a fresh blog post. He wanted to let out all his feelings about being pregnant, but this was his art blog. He posted about how amazing the body was instead. Being about to create and carry life. He was trying to capture the amazing process in his current art. 

After he posted it, he pulled up another fresh post and wrote about water and how he wanted to capture his favorite shade of blue in every piece he did. How he wanted to mix his favorite person into all his pieces and right now he was manifesting himself in a swirling ocean. 

Kent posted it hoping that Jack looked at it. He wanted Jack to look at it and know Kent was talking about him and then text Kent confessing all his hidden feels for him. 

He sighed and headed back to bed. Shitty would be home soon, but Kent didn’t have work, so he decided a nap was in order. His back had been achy and it’d been interfering with his art and sleep. Sometimes nothing was comfortable. The pillow Shitty bought helped some. 

Kent lay down and turned on sad music before drifting off to sleep.

 

====================================================

 

The backaches increase as the avocado grows. Kent can’t remember if the doctor said it could hear yet, but he bought headphones that fit around his belly. He played his favorite songs and his favorite books on tape. He played classical music and he played music that reminded him of Jack. 

But his back was killing him and it made him grumpy. So, Jeff said they were going to pregnant people yoga. He’d gone with another friend before and she’d said it helped a lot. So, he was taking Kent after work one day. 

The idea of yoga did not thrill Kent. Jack said he sometimes did yoga, but only at the trainers request. Kent had pretty good balance and decent flexibility, but yoga sounded lame. 

And it was full of mommies to be. Most who gave Jeff the second glance and the cutesy smiles while Kent sulked next to him.

The only thing that made it slightly okay was the male omega leading the class. The smell in the room was kind of intoxicating though and made Kent feel all warm and fuzzy. Like he wanted to nuzzle up to these women. 

“It’s the hormones and the omega smell,” Jeff said helping Kent bend. Kent farted for the third time and wondered if he could just crawl into a hole and die. 

“I want to go home,” he muttered. Jeff laughed. 

“If you’re backed up I can ask Tally for something,” he said softly, pushing Kent to stretch more. He hadn’t realized how tight his rib area was. 

“I’m fine,” Kent snapped. 

“I’ll ask anyway,” Swoops said. “How’s your back?”

“Everything hurts,” Kent whined. Swoops tsked and helped him bend to the other side. “This is stupid.” 

“It’ll help your hips in the long run and all your strength when you have to deliver,” Swoop said and Kent rolled his eyes. He tried to imagine what yoga would be like with Jack instead. 

He didn’t really want to be farting all over Jack though. He didn’t want to be farting on anyone really. But he couldn’t stop it and it was so fucking embarrassing even though Jeff ignored it all.

When they finally left, Jeff treated Kent to icecream for being a good sport. “If you ever want to go back let me know,” he said taking a spoonful of Kent’s chocolate ice cream. Kent glared at him, trying to get a spoonful of his mint ice cream. Jeff was taller than him though. 

“Yeah whatever,” Kent said. He had no desire to go back. All he wanted to do was lie in a pile with all the pregnant women and it was a weird feeling. 

“Do you know many omegas?” Jeff asked. Kent shrugged.

“Yeah some friends back home are. I hung out with a lot of alphas though.”

“Being friends with omegas, especially other pregnant omega can be helpful with emotions and stuff,” Jeff said throwing away his garbage.

“I don’t want pregnant friends,” Kent said. He wasn’t sure what kind of reaction he’d get from pregnant women. Or even pregnant cis men. He felt like the odd man out.

Maybe if he was with Jack though… Jack said one of the guys had a pregnant wife. She could be a friend? Maybe? What kind of people were hockey wives? 

“Do hockey players just have trophy wives?” Kent asked. 

“What? I mean, I guess some of them do. NHL players and such always seem to be finding those hot models or something. Must be a hot people only club,” Jeff said with a shrug. That didn’t make Kent feel better. Maybe Jack would want a trophy wife or husband and Kent was not that. 

“Do they have jobs or interests?” Kent asked. Jeff shrugged again. 

“I mean I’d assume they do? I don’t exactly know that many,” he laughed. “But all people have interests. Why?” 

Kent stared at Jeff for a long moment before saying, “Jack is a hockey player. He got me pregnant by accident. But you can’t tell anyone.”

“Oh okay. What kind of hockey does he play?” Swoops asked. 

“He’s in the NHL on the Falconers,” Kent said and Jeff choked on the water he was drinking. He was coughing and sputtering, looking wide eyed at Kent while Kent rolled his eyes. 

“Like Jack  _ Zimmermann?” _ Jeff sputtered. 

“Yeah Jack Zimmermann,” Kent said feeling suddenly self conscious. “I mean it though, you can’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t, I won’t Kent I’d never do that to you. But wow fuck, Jack Zimmermann. Is he why you’ve been looking at your phone so much recently?” 

Kent blushed, but only gave Swoops a shrug. Swoops slung an arm around Kent. “Really, don’t worry. I get it,” he said and hugged Kent tight.    
  


=================================================

 

Kent was woken up out of a restless sleep to his phone buzzing softly next to him. He’d overdone it with long hours in the studio and his back was on fire most of the evening. 

He flipped his phone over to see Jack’s name lit up on the screen. He was calling Kent at 3 in the morning.

“Hey Zimms,” Kent said, answering without a second thought. He yawned loudly and propped his head up with his other arm. 

“Sorry,” Jack said softly in Quebecois. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Nah it’s fine,” Kent said in French. “You okay?” There was silence and the sound of Jack’s uneven breathing. “Zimms?”

“I… the season starts in less than two weeks,” Jack said in a rush. 

“Were you having a panic attack?” Kent asked sitting up. Jack talked about getting them a lot and had almost had one in front of Kent, but managed to calm down. In the few months that they were together, Jack had called him twice after a bad panic attack.

“Kind of… I was asleep and dreaming that I kept fucking up on opening night and… when I woke up I couldn’t really breathe,” he told Kent. 

“You know you can’t mess up on the ice,” Kent said, not sure what to say. “I’ll be proud of whatever you do out there,” he said feeling like he sounded stupid. Jack let out a quiet laugh. 

“Thanks, but there are other people I can’t let down like my parents and coach and my team,” Jack said with a heavy sigh.

“You’ve got this Jack,” Kent said honestly.

“Yeah Kenny, I hope I do,” he said with another sigh. Kent wanted to reach through the phone and hug him. 

“You do. Give me your address. I’ll mail you a surprise,” Kent said.

“Like what?” Jack asked sounding interested. 

“Can’t ruin the surprise, Zimms. I’ll make sure it gets to you just in time,” Kent said. “I promise.”

“Okay,” Jack said and gave Kent his address. 

“You think you can sleep now?” Kent asked. 

“I’m going to try,” Jack said stifling a yawn. “Thanks Kenny. I mean it.”

“You’re welcome, Zimms,” Kent said with a smile. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Kenny,” Jack whispered being clicking end. Kent stretched, unable to get the smile off his face. He knew exactly what to put in his Jack care package. 


	8. 20 weeks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a good one folks, so strap in!

Kent felt good after a long day at the coffee shop. Ranch went on and on about various fashion projects she had to work on throughout the year, Swoops was trying to get Kent to go back to pregnant yoga, and he let everyone he knew start betting on the sex. 

He’d decided on a whim to let the doctor tell him the sex. He’d watched all of the opening Falcs game. A home game that they won, 2-1. Jack even scored. He shocked everyone when he barreled off the bench on his first shift, got the puck, and scored just like that. Kent liked the look of shock on Jack’s face when his team came rushing to congratulate him. 

In the interview later, Jack just awkwardly stared at the interviewers and said all that was running through his head was  _ get the fucking puck and put it between the pipes  _ so that was what he did. He said he was pretty sure he wasn’t even breathing during it. 

“I don’t even really remember getting on the ice,” Jack said frowning in concentration as if trying to remember. Mashkov showed up at that point to back Jack up. Save him from drowning in thought. 

Kent added the Falconers on Instagram so he could watch Jack score over and over. It made him wonder if his banana would be a hockey nut. Probably. But Kent would be okay with that. It’d give him a little way to always connect to Jack Zimmermann.

Kent had sighed. Watching an actual regular season game made Jack seem so much more untouchable. Kent had sent a congratulatory text, but hadn’t heard from Jack. Which was probably how it’d be now that Jack was debuted in the limelight. He saw the comments on Instagram. Jack could have anyone.

 

 

 

Walking home from work was nice that the air was cooler. Larissa texted him that her and Shitty had take out and the banana was hungry for it making Kent’s stomach rumble for over an hour. 

When he opened the front door, he snapped to attention. The house  _ reeked. _ The smell was thick and intoxicating and it was  _ Jack _ . 

Kent raced to the kitchen, panting. He knew Jack wasn’t there, but he needed to know why he was drowning in Jack’s scent.

“A box came for you,” Larissa said. She pointed to the table. “That better not be like the body of Jack Zimmermann. It fucking stinks and if it’s a body part I will scream,” she said as Kent tore open the box. 

It was a Falcs jersey. A really  _ stinky _ Falcs jersey… Kent gulped, resisting the urge to rub his face all over it. It smelled so perfectly of Jack and it made Kent fucking horny. He wanted to rub his face and body and bed with it until everything smelled like Jack. Fuck, Kent wanted to  _ lick _ it.

There was a note and an envelope. The note said ‘sorry I didn’t have time to wash it’. Kent turned the jersey over, but wasn’t surprised to see ZIMMERMANN on the back. 

“That’s actually really disgusting,” Larissa said moving to throw the box out. “Do you want to wash it?”

“Nope,” Kent said spinning on his heel and rushing to his makeshift room. 

“Oh gross Kent,” Larissa muttered, but he didn’t care. In the privacy of his room he pressed Jack’s jersey to his face and felt his body sing. If the banana could move it’d probably be dancing in Kent’s belly. He felt elated. He felt safe. He felt so wonderful. 

And so fucking horny. 

He tore his clothes off and pulled the jersey over his head. He was going to lose his mind. Between his legs it was wet and slick and his entire body throbbed, begging to be touched. He felt high and drunk and alive surrounded by Jack’s sent. Never had it been this powerful, this intoxicating. 

Sure Jack had always smelled better hot and sweaty, but this was ten times better. It was just shy of actually having Jack to fuck him instead of just his hand jerking himself fast. Kent bit down on the collar of the jersey wishing he could shove the entire thing into his mouth. 

He just wanted more Jack. He needed more Jack. 

Kent did his best to be quiet when he came, but he felt like he was going to eject out of his own skin. He lay there, surrounded by Jack and rubbed his hands over his swelling belly. Nothing smelled better than Jack. Nothing. 

 

 

 

Kent woke, disoriented. It was dark and the apartment had no lights on. Kent sat up, stretching, stiff. The only thing he was wearing was Jack’s jersey which still smelled great. Kent didn’t remember passing out, but did remember coming three times. 

He dialed Jack’s number without a second thought, planning to just leave a thanks, but Jack answered. 

“Kent?” he asked. 

“Uh yeah hi. I didn’t expect you to answer. What time is it?”

“What? It’s only 9 here,” Jack said. Kent pulled his phone away from his ear to look at the time. 10:11. Oh. 

“Oh I thought it was like late,” Kent said dumbly. “I can go if you are busy.”

“No we just got to the hotel it’s fine,” Jack said. “The guys went out but I’m not exactly legal to drink here so…” he trailed off. “It was easy to get some alone time.”

“Uh I called to say thanks for the package, Zimms. I fucking loved it,” Kent said. He could hear Jack grinning on the other end. 

“Good I’m glad. It’s from the home opener. I wanted to send something as a thanks for all the banana Laffy Taffy,” Jack said with a laugh. “And the uh… you know…”

“My nudes, Zimms?” Kent asked dropping his voice low.

“Yeah,” Jack said breathing heavy. 

“Good. It’s hard to get ones ass to look as good as mine,” Kent teased. Jack groaned. 

“It’s a beautiful ass, but I wish I could see all of you. Every inch.”

“Me too,” Kent said with a sigh.

“At least you have my ass, too,” Jack said.

“Yeah,” Kent said remembering how suppel and glorious Jack’s ass had been. “Wait, too?”

“Yeah… didn’t you get the envelope?” Jack asked suddenly sounding worried. Envelope? Kent looked around and found it stuck to his leg. 

“Oh yeah I’ve got it,” Kent said tearing it open. “And holy fuck Zimms!” Kent shouted into the phone. He was staring at the back of Jack wearing his jersey and no pants. No fucking pants. Just his huge, bubble butt sticking out in all its glory.

“Oh god don’t I’m still embarrassed,” Jack groaned. 

“Don’t be I almost came untouched wow. I’m going to need a safe to lock this in and god everything about you is huge. Just like that dick,” Kent praised. 

“I swear Parse,” Jack groaned again. “It was so embarrassing.”

“Wait, who took a photo of this ass?” Kent asked. 

“Who took your photo?” Jack countered. 

“Larissa. She takes all my pictures, nudes included. I could make some raunchy video of me fucking myself with a huge, fat fucking dildo while wearing your jersey and she’d film it and tell me I was doing amazing.”

Jack practically whined into the phone. Kent smirked. 

“Like that Zimms? I’d call out your name, begging you to take me harder and shut me up like you’re so good at doing. No one fucked me like you did,” Kent said in a low voice. Jack’s breathing was rough on the other end and Kent rocked his hips, grinding down on his mattress. 

“I wouldn’t give you a chance, Parser,” Jack grunted. 

“Yeah, probably be too busy fucking my mouth to give me a chance to scream. I’d take it all the way Zimms. Love the way you force my throat open and use me. Push my face into your pubes and just take. Fuck I’m drooling just thinking about it,” Kent groaned putting a hand between his legs. Jack definitely had a hand down his pants too. Kent could heard the slap of skin and the rough, heavy breathing. “God my chest aches Zimms. I want you to cum all over my chest. Cover me in you. I want to be covered in you so bad. I want your hands on me, your tongue on me. I’m so fucking wet and ready for you Zimms. Everything aches and fuck, fuck, fuck!” Kent cries as he cums. “You on the edge Zimms?” Kent pants. “You on the edge and gonna fuck me til you’re done? When I’m all sensitive and tired? Because I like when you do that. I love when I’m all fucked out and I can feel all your muscle plowing into me. When you’re on top of me or when you’re under… so strong. I love it Jack. I need it,” Kent moaned. 

Jack groaned low as he came and Kent felt overly satisfied. And then he felt overwhelmed by the distance. He wanted Jack with him. 

“I miss you,” Kent whispered. There was a long silence and Kent wasn’t sure if Jack heard. 

“I miss you too,” Jack murmured in Quebecois. Kent swallowed the lump in his throat. He felt like he was on the verge of tears. He just felt so  _ lonely _ . “And it was Tater. Uh Alexei… Mashkov? He took the picture for me. He’s probably one of my best friends and I trust him like I trust you. The jersey… it was his idea. He said you might like that it smelled like me.”

Kent took a deep breath. The tears were threatening to fall and now was as good a time as any. “I’m pregnant, Zimms,” Kent half sobbed. He expected the silence to last forever or turn into anger, but all Jack said was,

“I know.”

“What?” Kent said taking slow breaths. 

“When you came you… you smelled pregnant. I wasn’t totally sure… but Tater said you smelled pregnant.”

“Why didn’t you say something!” 

“I didn’t know how? I didn’t know if you knew… or if you were going to like… do something about it.”

“Oh… no… no I’m just I am twenty weeks as of this week,” Kent said letting out a shaky breath. 

“Congrats?” Jack said sounding unsure and then paused. “No congratulations,” Jack said and Kent could feel his soft smile through the phone. “It’s uh… mine right?”

“Yeah,” Kent said quietly. “I’m sorry, but the birth control doesn’t always work with the hormones I was on and I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Jack,” Kent said another sob sneaking out. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Kenny,” Jack said. “We were both stupid.”

Kent let out a nervous laugh. “But this could ruin you,” he said. Another sob. 

“Oh… it’s hard to explain, but it doesn’t make me anxious. I thought about it a lot after seeing you and… I miss our private little bubble, Kenny. If you wanted to shout from the rooftops that I got you pregnant, then maybe I’d worry… but you wouldn’t do that.”

Kent couldn’t hold back the tears. “But… so much is changing with my body and I… I just… what if you don’t like me anymore Zimms? What if I don’t like me?”

“I’ll like every inch of you until you can like yourself again too, Kenny. I’ve always liked every inch of you.”

Kent took a moment to cry, wiping his eyes on the sleeve of Jack’s jersey. 

“I still want you at my games… and to uh… see the…”

“The what?” Kent asked taking a deep breath. 

“Your belly…” Jack murmured. Kent snorted. “Shut up Parse. It’s an instinct thing.”

“Uh huh,” Kent hiccuped, but he was smiling. “You promise it doesn’t make you anxious? Being famous and all?”

“I hate being famous. I just want to play hockey,” Jack said with a sigh. “I mean I guess I’m worried about shit you’d get. Like yeah guys can get pregnant but it’s still rare and I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you or the baby.”

“Yeah… I get that. I always worried what people would assume if I go pregnant and I don’t really want to know. Especially opinions of people who shit on you,” Kent said.

“Who shits on me?” Jack asked, confused. 

“Like on Twitter and stuff,” Kent said.

“Oh, I don’t look at that.”

“Of course,” Kent said kind of relieved Jack was Jack. “Will you tell me if you think it’s making you more anxious?”

“Yeah I will…”

“Really?” Kent asked. 

“I promise. So, will you come to my home game on Tuesday? I just really want to see you.”

“Yeah. I’ll make it work Zimms. I really want to see you too,” Kent said with a small smile.

“Thanks Kenny,” Jack said. “And Kenny?”

“Yeah Zimms?”

There was a pause. “Can I tell you I love you?” 

Kent felt his heart leap into his throat almost killing him on the spot. Instead he burst into tears again. 

“Oh Kent no. I don’t have to Kent. It’s okay, Kenny I’ll take it back!” Jack said panicking.

“No Zimms no. I just… I love you too okay?” 

“Oh,” Jack said voice softening. “Yeah okay. I love you too.”


	9. 22 weeks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for panic attacks and mentions of OCD and disordered eating. 
> 
> Spoilers in the end notes. 
> 
> Enjoy!

There was time to go see Jack two weeks later. Shitty and Larissa had some time to take Kent to Providence for a game and then to spend the night and next day with Jack too. Kent was nervous. They’d left early and Kent found being in the car gave him ample opportunity to think about how fat he’d gotten or how his boobs were huge and leaky or how his stupid belly button looked like it was trying to eject from his body.

The only comfortable position in the car was hard to draw in, so Kent blasted music and tried to doze off. It was easy. It was like his body  _ knew _ he was going to see Jack and it was over the moon. 

He and Jack tried to call each other more. Well, for Kent it was easy, but Jack was trying. Even if it was to tell Kent about practice or what he ate for lunch. Jack always said he’d rather listen to Kent talk. Kent talked about his art mostly, but branched into telling about apartment hunting with Larissa and Shitty or about work and his work friends. Jeff had taken Kent out to start pricing baby stuff. He didn’t want to start buying much until the move happened, but having a list of things picked out made Kent feel better. 

Kent slept with Jack’s jersey held tight to his chest, relishing in the way it gave him sweet dreams. He hadn’t told Jack the sex of the baby even though Jack was desperate to know. Kent wanted to surprise him. 

Deciding what to wear was a pain. In the end, Kent forced himself to put on jeans for Jack even though he wanted to wear sweatpants. Both Larissa and Shitty said there was no way Jack Zimmermann would care if he was wearing sweatpants, but Kent wanted to look his best. And his best meant partially ignoring that he was almost five months pregnant. 

 

They parked and headed inside. They had seats in the family and friends section and were meeting up with Jack’s friends wife; who was also pregnant. Jack hadn’t told anyone Kent was more than a friend, but felt he needed to send someone to greet Kent because he couldn’t. 

Caroline Bootsworth was tall and blonde and perfectly, proportionately pregnant. Kent was almost jealous. She looked cute in her husbands jersey while Kent felt like the Falconers sweatshirt Jack sent him made him look like a walrus. 

But she smelled really nice, comforting almost, and Kent’s jealousy faded away after hugs.

“Gosh, it’s so nice to see someone else pregnant,” she said when they all sat down. “Jack said you were almost five months, so our babies are probably due around the same time. I’m scheduled for a C-Section on February 1st. I’m so nervous, but my hips are so narrow that they don’t want to risk a natural birth.”

“Yeah uh I’m due February 23rd and I haven’t really like decided how, but my doctor said water births are the best way for omegas. I think I’m going to want the drugs though.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Caroline laughed. “I guess I’d always pictured myself doing a water birth too which is why it’s so hard to have it be like decided for me. Do you know what you’re having?”

“Yeah, but it’s a secret,” Kent said. Caroline laughed. 

“I couldn’t wait to know and then when I found out I called everyone in my phone I was so excited. I’m having a little boy and Bootsy is so excited. He was kind of freaked we got pregnant so soon, but now he’s all into it.” 

Jack had said Bootsy and Caroline were young, just five years older than him, and were high school sweethearts. They got pregnant a year after the wedding. 

Jack had asked Kent if they should get married for legal reasons and everything. For some reason, the idea of marriage completely terrified Kent even though he did want to be with Jack. Kent decided in the end that the mating process and bonding was what was more important to him. So they agreed to start there even though Kent was continuously warned not to mate while pregnant. But fuck it, he’d rather mate Jack first and then marry him.

“Jack said you were unmated?” Caroline asked softly. Kent rested his hands against his stomach. If he pushed on the coconut, it would push back. And he loved that. 

“Yeah, but I’m kind of seeing the person,” Kent said keeping it vague. 

“Oh, well I hope they are there to help. I don’t know what I’d do without Bootsy.”

“Yeah,” Kent said swallowing the sadness. “But I’ve got good friends to help too.”

“That’s good too,” Caroline said with a smile. 

 

Jack was a starter that night. It was his first game as a starter and Kent hoped he wasn’t too in his head about it. He looked calm and collected on the ice. Skating easily and making good plays. Caroline was super into it; bonding with Larissa and Shitty over plays and shots on goal. Kent just tracked Jack across the ice. 

During intermission before the third period it was 2-2 and Kent couldn’t sit comfortably anymore. Caroline offered to do some laps with him to see if that helped. 

“You’re friends are great. How long have you known them?” Caroline asked as they circled around the arena.

“I’ve known Larissa since I was born. She lived a few houses away and we went to the same private school. She actually played hockey in high school. Our schools team wasn’t anything special but my freshman year, her junior year, they won like finals or whatever.”

“Yeah that’s cool. I didn’t play any sports at school but I did a lot with horses. Not racing, but dressage.”

“Oh that’s cool. Do you still do horse stuff?” Kent asked. 

“Yeah, well when I’m not pregnant,” she laughed. Kent nodded. “Jack said you’re into art?” 

“Yeah… painting mostly. My grandparents were really into art especially after they retired and I spent a lot of time with them when I was little. Me and some of my friends at school, well we all had good connections and got our pieces into shows and galleries. I’ve had stuff appraised and I’ve sold stuff. Most people want names they recognize or that others recognize, but if a person is a real collector they look at newer pieces too.”

“That’s so cool. I don’t think Bootsy can name an artist, so I was surprised when Jack commented on some of the prints in our house. He’s also into photography too. He’s taken some really artistic shots of his team. Him and Bootsy and Tater go on long runs and sometimes go hiking and Jack’s taken some great photos.”

Kent smiled. Jack said he had photos he wanted to show Kent. He said he went to a film shop that let him try developing and it was really fun even though he felt he was really bad at it. “Yeah that and history are Jack’s loves outside of hockey.”

“Yes, he was telling someone all about hockey during WWII and I overheard. He can be a funny one. I always like to hear what he’s thinking about.”

“Me too,” Kent agreed. 

“We are going to Mexico during the bye week and taking Jack. You should come too. It’s going to be me and Bootsy, Jack, and Tater.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know if Jack wants to go on vacation with me,” Kent said with a shrug. Although he wasn’t sure Jack would even think to ask even if he did want Kent there.

“Of course he would!” she exclaimed. “He needs to decompress and not think about hockey for like ten seconds and you’re the perfect person for that. Tater asked Jack what his plans were and Jack said he planned to do some extra training. The boy needs a break with a capital B.” 

“I guess I can ask or maybe he’ll ask,” Kent said with another shrug.

“Or Tater will ask,” Caroline laughed as they retook their seats. 

 

The Falcs lost 3-2. It made Kent even more anxious to see Jack. He, Larissa, and Shitty followed Caroline down to meet up with the team. Kent’s back was killing him and his boobs felt like heavy, achy sandbags on his chest. He’d gotten hot, but didn’t want to take off his hoodie. 

He was sipping lemonade, which the coconut was demanding, as he waited anxiously for Jack. Larissa let him lean against her while they waited. She offered to rub his back but he said he’d be fine. He wasn’t really that fine though. 

Kent absently ran a hand over his belly. Waiting with other people made him feel awkward. He didn’t know them and they didn’t know him so who knew what they could be thinking. Shitty was casually talking to a few people, but Larissa kept a protective stance around Kent. 

He wanted to tell her she didn’t need to do it, but it was kind of nice to feel protected when he was overwhelmed. 

Caroline brought Eric ‘Bootsy’ Bootsworth over to meet them when they were leaving. Bootsy was a 6 foot defenseman built exactly like a brick wall. He was nice though. 

“I swear, the best way to get Jack talking about anything that isn’t hockey this or protein that is to ask how’s Kent,” Bootsy laughed. “I mean we only do it among friends, but it works. Otherwise when we hang out he just starts dissecting plays on our days off and like Jack, we love you but shut the fuck up,” he laughed. “So give him stuff to talk about because if I have to hear about all our shortcomings from tonight from him too I’m going to lose it.”

“Oh shut up, Boots. Don’t pressure him,” Caroline said rolling her eyes. “Bye Kent. I’m taking him home before he says more stupid stuff,” she laughed. 

“Bye,” Kent said with a smile. The doors opened again and he could smell Jack. It was a light smell under the soap of freshly washed hair, but it was enough to instantly make Kent’s breasts leak. “Oh fuck,” he muttered as two dark spots appeared on his sweatshirt. 

“Oh god,” Larissa groaned. “Sorry, but that smells delightful.”

Kent wanted to crawl in a hole and die, but Jack was suddenly in front of his staring at his chest. “I want to put my hands all over you,” Jack whispered. 

“Hug me,” Kent told him, wanting to take attention away from what felt like gushing boobs. 

Jack hugged him; wrapping strong arms around Kent and nuzzling his nose against Kent’s jaw. Kent put his hands on Jack’s back. Everyone had cleared out other than Mashkov, who waited a polite distance. Jack had moved in with him near the beginning of the season since he didn’t have much to move and had grown very close to the captain.

Kent would be joining Jack at Mashkov’s house that night. Kent was nervous, but trusted Jack. 

Jack let one of his hands drop and move to Kent’s belly. “I love it,” he murmured in Kent’s ear. Kent had to hold back the tears. 

“Come on Zimms, I wanna sit down or something. Let’s go,” Kent said. Jack looked him in the eye and nodded. 

“I’ll take good care of him,” Jack said to Larissa and Shitty. 

“You better, Zimmermann, or I will take you apart,” Larissa said with a smile. He nodded. Kent rolled his eyes.

They all parted ways and Kent did feel nervous following Jack to Mashkov’s car, but he also felt overly excited. The way a little kid would feel about a sleepover.

“Front or back?” Mashkov asked Kent. 

“He can sit in the front. It’s more comfortable,” Jack said opening the door for Kent. 

“You just wanna see me climb into this beast,” Kent said to Jack who only smiled. Kent struggled a bit to climb into the huge car and Jack helped steady him by conveniently grabbing his ass. 

In the car, Kent looked over at Mashkov. Jack talked about him sometimes, but to Kent he was still a huge, hulking stranger. He looked at Kent and smiled.

“You want order food? Or eat Jack’s food?” he asked and Kent shrugged. Mashkov nodded. “We order food. No one like Jack’s food except Jack. We get pizza and no one tell because captain say so,” he said with a huge grin. 

“Pizza sounds good,” Kent said. Anything sounded good even though he’d already eaten a lot. 

“Good. How is baby? Is baby liking the game?”

“The baby is good,” Kent said. “But the coconut hurts my back and the stadium seats are shit.”

“Yes, is true,” he said with a nod. 

“Does the baby move yet?” Jack asked. 

“I guess. Kind of? Like if I push the baby pushes back? I forget what it’s called.”

“Okay,” Jack said. “Do you want to sleep right away? Do you need to? Or take a shower or bath?” 

“No, I’m good. I just want to change into comfortable clothes.”

“All my house is comfortable,” Mashkov said. “We watch TV but no hockey, Zimboni.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack muttered, turning his attention back to Kent. There was a hungry look in his eyes and Kent understood it. His body was thrumming with anticipation. He wanted Jack’s hands on his body and his teeth and lips on his skin. He wanted to launch himself into the backseat and consume Jack. 

 

Mashkov had a mansion. Kent wasn’t totally surprised, he knew hockey players made a lot, but walking through the grand entrance to a livingroom the size of the apartment was slightly jarring. 

They left their shoes by the front door and Jack lead Kent up a staircase that wound up to a landing at the top of the stairs. Even higher up was a large skylight. From it hung a chain of metal birds and lights that acted as a chandelier. 

Upstairs had thick, plush carpet that Kent’s feet sunk into as Jack ushered him along. 

Jack’s bedroom was huge with a queen sized bed and a decent sized closet and TV bigger than Kent had ever seen. The painting of his that Jack bought hung between the closet and bathroom door. Against the wall with the bed, there were more frames waiting to be hung. Kent looked through them at Jack’s photographs. 

“Do you want a towel or something for the-” Jack gestured to his chest as Kent pulled off his damp sweatshirt. 

“Uh yeah okay,” he said trying to swallow the selfconsiousness. He peeled off his wet shirt and sighed. “I have boobs now Zimms,” Kent said pulling off the sports bra too.

“Yeah you said that,” Jack said returning with a wet washcloth and a towel. His eyes went right to Kent’s chest and stomach, the hungry look returning and Kent feeling like suddenly the room was too hot and he was drowning in Jack’s scent. He went to stand toe to toe with Kent, reaching out but not touching yet.

“You can touch me Zimms,” Kent breathed. The first touch of calloused fingers dragging down the arrows in the center of Kent’s chest set him on fire. Jack dragged his fingers down to where the South arrow curved up at the end over Kent’s belly.

Jack’s massive hands spread over Kent’s skin, cradling his stomach and smoothing over the stretched skin. He moved closer, hands on Kent’s stomach as he pressed a kiss to Kent’s lips. Then his jaw and then his neck. He pressed his lips against Kent’s scent gland and Kent shivered. He wanted to beg Jack to bite him.

“Is it weird that I… that I want to like…” Jack trailed off rubbing Kent’s belly.

“What?” Kent whispered. 

“I want to… to like lick the milk off,” Jack said. Kent’s eyes flew open, but Jack’s face was still tucked against his neck. “I wanted to since you… at the stadium when it came out. I just wanted to grab you there and take you or have you take me or something,” Jack mumbled against his skin. “But only want to touch you there if you want me to.”

Kent almost laughed. “You can touch me there I think, but never tell me you want to drink my fucking breast milk again.”

“I didn’t say drink,” Jack murmured kissing over Kent’s collarbone. He held his breath as Jack went lower. He rested his hands on Jack’s shoulders to ground himself as Jack stuck out his tongue and licked over Kent’s nipple. 

“More,” Kent grunted, digging his fingers into Jack’s biceps. Jack obliged the way he always did leaving Kent’s chest feeling hot and sticky and better than it’d felt in months. 

Kent was breathing hard when Jack sank to his knees and pressed his cheek to Kent’s belly. He looked up at Kent through his eyelashes. 

“I never want to stop holding you,” Jack said making Kent’s eyes water. Kent carded his fingers through Jack’s hair. “I love your belly in a way I can’t put into words. You’re so beautiful,” Jack said pressing kissed to Kent’s stomach. “Even your cute bellybutton,” Jack laughed. Kent sobbed. 

“Stop, I don’t want to fucking cry already Zimms,” he sobbed. 

“I know… I was always told to be careful; that people would be after me for my money and then I thought I was lucky because women didn’t interest me. So I thought problem solved… but Kenny… I know I said that we couldn’t be anything more than a simple thing, but when you were gone it hurt so bad.”

Kent felt the hot tears running down his cheeks. 

“It hurt like I was gonna die, Kenny,” Jack said tracing patterns on Kent’s skin. “Basically… I mean I don’t want to come out or anything like that, but later, if you want to, I’d mate with you,” he said turning glassy blues eyes up to Kent. kent sobbed embarrassingly loud and pressed his palms to my eyes. 

“Kiss me, Jack,” Kent said and Jack was on his feet. He kissed Kent until they couldn’t breathe. “Fuck me,” Kent said when they broke apart. 

“Can we?” Jack asked. 

“What?”

“Sorry, I got bad sexual education and it was never clear if you could like poke the baby when you had sex,” Jack said. Kent snorted, burying his face in Jack’s shoulder to half laugh and half cry. 

“Sex is fine, Zimms,” Kent said. “What about Mashkov though?”

“I told him I’m gay,” Jack said going for the button on Kent’s jeans. 

“Oh I didn’t know you’d like decided.”

“Well, I said probably gay or attracted to one man at the moment,” Jack explained getting his serious face on. “I started rambling about how sexuality can be ever changing and I was still kind of new to liking anyone, but he said that was okay and he was like that too.”

“Oh well, that’s great Zimms,” Kent said. Jack gave him a small smile. 

“Thanks Kenny and uh I want to ask something.”

“What?” 

Jack looked nervous for a moment. “Can I go down on you? At some point? It’s uh… supposed to taste different…” he said looking away from Kent as Kent watched his ears burn. 

“Yeah Jack you can,” Kent said leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “But then I get to blow you. We could like sixty-nine.”

“Does that actually work?” Jack asked and Kent shrugged. 

“I mean we can try and laying down sounds kinda nice,” he said hands tugging on Jack’s shirt. “It won’t hurt my knees or my neck. I might get stuck though.”

“I’ll help you,” Jack said pulling his clothes off as Kent shucked his jeans and boxers. Jack turned to the bed, thinking for a moment, and Kent grabbed two handfuls of his glorious ass. Jack groaned and Kent nudged him in the back with his belly. Jack pulled all the pillows off the bed and pulled the comforter back. 

Kent followed Jack up onto the bed, eager to get at his dick. “Kenny, you lie down first and then I’ll figure it out,” Jack said kneeling over Kent. Kent lay on his side and Jack wrapped around him. It really wasn’t the best position, but Kent got a mouthful of Jack’s cock and Jack grabbed Kent’s hips and basically pulled Kent’s lower half onto his face. 

And for a shit as the position was, feeling Jack touch him again was worth it. 

 

They made it downstairs by the time pizza arrived. Kent was back in his boxers and the shirt Jack had been wearing and Jack was in shorts and a different shirt. Mashkov shook his head, a smile on his face, as everyone piled up plates and got something to drink. 

They flipped through the channels while they ate. Jack had Kent’s legs over his lap and Kent tried not to think about what it’d be like to have Jack near him every day. Even if they were together and living together, with Jack’s schedule, Kent would have a lot of away time. It all kind of sucked. And made Kent grumpy. 

 

They lay naked and tucked against one another in darkness. Sex had taken a moment to figure out with Kent’s stomach in the way, but when they finally found a rhythm Kent felt alive. Jack lit him up in all the right ways. Touching in the right places and making Kent feel like nothing changed. Like they were tucked away in his bedroom in Quebec and everything wasn’t… different. 

But then they were falling asleep and Jack had his arm wrapped protectively around Kent, hand resting on his belly, and Kent felt like he was drowning in panic. He was torn between wanting Jack to be permanently his and ruining Jack with a baby and his gayness. Jack fit in his world, but he didn’t fit into Jack’s.

He tried concentrating on Jack’s even breathing; heavy and slow as he sank deeper into sleep. Kent pulled the blankets tighter around him, trying to will his mind to shut up. Jack wanted him. Jack wanted him and the baby… but maybe it was just because Kent smelled nice and pregnant hormones tickled his alpha instincts. Maybe it wasn’t really about Kent.

Maybe it never was. 

Kent slipped out of bed, got dressed, and wandered downstairs. If he couldn’t sleep he was going to eat. 

But Mashkov was right when he said no one would want Jack’s food. Kent looked at numerous labeled containers and the coconut turned up their nose at all of them. He finally decided on a clementine and sat at the island to peel it. 

“Oh, thought you was Zimboni,” Mashkov said from behind Kent. 

“Oh sorry, I uh can leave,” he said. He felt like he’d been caught trespassing, but Mashkov shook his head and yawned. 

“He get up lots in nighttime. I tell him he need sleep but he say too worried for sleep. Sometimes worry about hockey and sometimes worry about life,” Mashkov said sitting next to Kent. “He get stronger medicine and he sleep but he become machine. He do things in repeat. He talk with me so I help him to stop. He ask how he be a good person for baby if he machine.”

“He seemed okay tonight,” Kent said. 

“Because he calm with you. You aren’t hockey for him. Everyone else is hockey with him. He think about other things with you. Like baby. Like art. Like pictures. Not only think hockey thoughts. Make him less machine.”

Kent sighed. “I know. But I don’t want to end up some kind of crutch in his life. Or something he resents because I’m… different. I do art. Art is my true love and hockey is his. I don’t want him to end up hating that because I pull him away from hockey.”

“No, not understanding,” Mashkov said shaking his head. “Jack is flat. Machine for hockey. Only think one thing. You are door that make Jack open the eyes and see things. You making him round. Not a weakness. He not resenting you. He more a person with you.”

Kent put the rest of the clementine in his mouth. The Jack he knew barely talked about hockey; he wanted to escape hockey. Even if only for a moment. 

“What I say is,” Mashkov continued. “Jack is wanting you even if just friends and even if more than friends.  And you is making Jack a better person.” He looked up and Kent turned around to a sleepy Jack standing a few feet away.

“I got worried because you weren’t there,” Jack mumbled, rubbing his eyes. He crossed over to Kent, burying his face against his neck and resting a hot hand on Kent’s belly. Mashkov smiled at Kent, slipping away from the counter. 

“Go back to the bed,” he said jokingly as he left. 

“Come on Zimms, you’re dead on your feet,” Kent said taking his hand and sliding off the chair.

He tried to let Mashkov’s words sink into him. He tried to push doubt out and accept that he belonged there next to Jack. They could have their nice little private life somehow. There were still a lot of obstacles and everything would build once there was a baby…

Kent took a deep breath and curled into Jack. He’d fallen asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. Kent traced a finger over Jack’s nose, his cheeks. His skin was scratchy with stubble he shaved because more grew on the left than the right and he thought it looked weird. It probably did. But Kent understood. He could grow the worlds patchiest beard if he wanted to. 

He kissed Jack before forcing himself to shut his eyes. Things were going to be okay. Somehow, they’d be okay. 

 

Jack took Kent to the Halloween Store. They didn’t really want to go anywhere, but they also didn’t want to sit around watching TV. Jack went for an hour run and went to morning practice while Kent slept and then showered. 

And then they went to the Halloween Store after lunch.

“Did you ever dress up?” Kent asked Jack. Jack shrugged. 

“We I was older I did fundraisers where we’d have to dress up. They were always themed and I hated them.”

“What kind of theme?” 

“Like cowboys and animals and then we all wore girl cheerleading outfits one year.”

Kent stared at him. “I don’t know which to ask about first. What animal? Are there pictures?”

Jack grumbled. 

“Tell me Zimms,” Kent said with a grin.

“Yeah my mom has pictures,” he sighed. Kent cackled. 

“Tell her I want to see them,” Kent said and Jack paused. 

“Can I tell them that I’m seeing you?” Jack asked. “Like as a boyfriend seeing you?”

“Yeah that’s fine but uh…” Kent pointed at his stomach. 

“I know and yeah I don’t know how to bring that up… the thought kind of scares me…” Jack trailed off, looking at the ground. “Right now saying I love a boy sounds easier than saying that boy is also pregnant and it’s mine because… I was just always told to never do that. My dad… it was always don’t get anyone pregnant and we’re not married or even that old and I don’t know what to say to them,” Jack said wringing his hands together. Kent put his hands on Jack’s shoulders. 

“Zimms look at me,” Kent said, but Jack shook his head. 

“I’m not even the one pregnant, but I’m afraid of them being disappointed in me. And I’m not ashamed of you or the baby or any of it, but I can’t deal with their disappointment, especially my dads. That’s why my anxiety was always so out of control. I was afraid to disappoint them the most because they expected so much and all I could do was… was things that upset them!” Kent could feel the tension building in Jack and they were in the middle of the store. He looked around, but he didn’t know if he could convince Jack to move towards the door. 

“Jack, it’s okay. You don’t need to tell them I’m pregnant okay? You don’t have to. You never have to,” Kent said in a rush as Jack shook his head. He kept curling his hands into fists. Over and over and over. 

“I can’t do rituals Kenny. I can’t. Everyone did them and I did too but then it was too much and I had to touch the door just right and tie my laces over and over until it was right and I couldn’t leave the house without shutting all the lights off in the right order and take a certain amount of steps to the car and then we were losing and it wasn’t working. I was letting them down and they were screaming at me to stop opening and closing my bedroom door but I had to. And I can’t anymore. I stopped, but sometimes I want to so they won’t hate me and then it shifted to food and Tater tries to get me to stop but it all has to be perfect or else something will go wrong and then Kent will hate me and leave and go away but I want him to stay and I don’t know what to do to keep him to stay. I don’t want more medication. I don’t want more it’s already so much and makes my head fuzzy and everything slow and I can’t take more and it’s all they give me is more and more to make it all stop and it doesn’t,” Jack cut off like he couldn’t breath and Kent held his shaking shoulders, staring through teary eyes as Jack fell apart. 

“It’s okay Zimms, it’s okay Jack I’m right here,” Kent said. “It’s me. It’s Kent. I’m right here with you okay? I’m right here and you don’t need to do anything. I’m right here.”

“I’m not doing enough. Not enough. It’s never enough,” Jack choked out. Kent moved a hand to cup his cheek. He stroked over the smooth skin.

“Always enough. No one is disappointed Jack,” Kent said reaching to take one of Jack’s hands. Jack was shaking, chest heaving on the verge of hyperventilating. “Now it’s all out. It’s all done Jack. And I’m right here. Please look at me.”

Sad blue eyes turned to him. They stared, unfocused for a moment, until Jack started melting in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice still tight and strained. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Shhh no, no it’s okay,” Kent said trying to calm himself. He wanted to built a fort around them and disappear into it. “Let’s go home okay? We will go home and take a nap and be safe in your room, okay? You don’t need to do anything,” Kent said unsure if Jack believed him.

But Jack nodded slowly and sagged. 

“Tell me what I should be for Halloween. Tell me all your secret desires,” Kent said, leading Jack by the hand to the door. Kent had driven once since arriving in the US and Jack’s car was expensive, but he was not letting Jack behind the wheel. 

There was heavy silence as they drove. Kent griped the wheel anxiously while Jack sat deflated and staring out the window next to him. Kent turned on the radio to fill the silence, but it wasn’t enough to fill the hole he felt like he’d had ripped through him. He was ruining Jack’s life. The baby would ruin Jack’s life. No matter how much they loved each other, Kent was destroying everything Jack lived for. 

And he didn’t know how to fix it.  

Kent was afraid there wasn't a way to fix it... except to leave and never go back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Incase Tater was hard to understand, he was basically saying Jack comes off as VERY one dimensional and fixates hard on hockey, but when he is with Kent/talks about Kent he expresses all these other interests and ideas and thoughts. So, Tater likes that someone else can help Jack broaden his horizon.


	10. 28 weeks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short little chapter for now! Enjoy~

Kent could feel Larissa’s eyes on him. She’d been standing in the doorway to the studio for the better part of five minutes. Kent ignored her in favor of dragging thick brushes over canvas turning calm waves into a nightmare storm. He let the black paint cut through the greens and blues turning the water dark and unnerving. 

On the other side, the waves crested high and menacing, ready to swallow anyone whole. His music blasted high enough that he could feel the beat in his heart. His legs were killing him from standing for over two hours and the eggplant was kicking something fierce. The eggplant had been kicking wildly at Kent since he’d left Jack.

He held his stomach, running his palm over the restless baby trying to soothe them. Nothing seemed to work though.

“Take a break,” Larissa said. Kent ignored her. “I wasn’t asking, Kent,” she added crossing the room to shut off the music. He shot her a glare. She ignored it. “We’re going over to the house now that all the papers are done.”

They’d found a house after a tip from Swoops. It was a bit further from campus, but nothing terrible. It was small but had three decent size bedrooms and two full baths. It was a ranch and had a carport. They’d wanted a garage, but Larissa said it was better than nothing. 

There was a lot of ugly carpet, but nothing was too outdated and Shitty liked that there was an operational fire place in the living room. 

“Fine,” Kent snapped, flinging the brush down and heading out to the bathroom. Him and Jack were talking and everything seemed fine, but Kent didn’t feel like it was fine. He lay awake thinking about how he ruined Jack’s life. They didn’t talk about the panic attack but it was all Kent could think about. It was all a mistake and he told himself every day that he’d end it with Jack. It was what was best. He’d be fine without a partner and maybe one day he’d find another mate…

 

Larissa and Shitty ignored Kent when he told them he couldn’t take the master. It was only a few feet bigger with an attached bathroom, but it was too much. He tried to say he’d pay more for it but that they ignored too. 

He stood in the room, walking around it’s perimeter. He’d already picked out a double bed and a crib. They’d arrive at the house after Christmas. Ranch had a cousin who donated a changing table and new infant car seat to Kent. Ranch’s cousin had twins and one was in the hospital for the foreseeable future. Kent tried to decline the car seat, but Ranch said her cousin hated looking at it and would just get another when she could take the baby home.

Kent tried not to think about having a sick baby. There was nothing wrong at the moment, but he also felt if something were to happen it would actually break him. 

Kent’s mom had called him earlier in the week to ask if he was still pregnant. Yes. She asked if he still planned to keep the baby. Yes. She went on a seven minute rant about his future and how he was only making things harder on himself and he’d never be able to get ahead. She asked if he’d reconsidered college. He said no. She hung up with a sigh. 

After that he’d gone into the studio and pulled out a canvas to destroy. All he really wanted to do was call Jack and be comforted by him, but while he didn’t feel his mothers word applied to him, they definitely applied to Jack. The baby would ruin Jack. Even if they kept it quiet, the baby would be another thing for Jack to think about and worry about when he needed to focus on his career. 

Kent opened his phone and clicked on the NHL app. The Falcs home game had just started. They were doing good. The team had an early hold on a playoff spot that they were working hard to hold on to. Jack said it was way too early in the season to know who’d make it to the playoffs. He said plenty of teams had fallen apart right at the end and blown it. 

Jack had told Kent that nights game was probably going to be a rough one. He said some teams just hit more than others. Two of the Falcs top players were out. One with an injury and one was sick and Jack said it made him nervous. It was a winger and a defensive player, but Jack had said he felt like it was more pressure on him to keep everything together and not let the team sag with them out. 

Kent let Jack talk trying not to think about the baby being another weight on Jack. If there was something wrong with the baby that’d be even worse. Or if there was something wrong with him and Jack felt like he’d have to step up. 

If they didn’t go to the playoffs there were still two solid months of regular season hockey left. Jack didn’t have time to think about anyone else. If he went to the playoffs he could be playing until the summer. 

Kent sighed. 

“Hey I just got a call from that gallery,” Larissa said joining Kent in his room. “The one in Boston and they definitely want your art there.” A friend of Larissa’s was invited to join an art show about the human body. Kent told Larissa he didn’t need to show in it, but she called anyway. 

He had two pieces done for it. Or nearly done and then planned at least two others. The first two showcased pregnancy. 

The show was January 7th which was soon, but Kent was determined to push himself. Larissa scolded him for doing it, but he frequently got up in the night to sketch or paint anyway. Painting was better than thinking about how he’d fucked everything up. 

“Okay,” Kent said. 

“We’re gonna go get dinner now okay?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” Kent said and followed her out. He looked at the NHL app in the car reading through what had happened in the game so far. They were heading into the second period and there were already a lot of penalties. 

 

 

 

The doorbell rang at two in the morning. It startled Kent awake and he saw that he had six missed calls from Jack. He bolted up in bed to hear Shitty murmuring at the door. Then he could smell Jack. 

Kent turned around as Jack pulled back the curtain around his bed. Kent didn’t know what to say, just stared. Jack yawned and went to sit on Kent’s bed. 

“Are you okay?” Kent asked, worried. Jack looked at him for a long moment. 

“Yeah, just kind of beaten up. It was a rough game and I’m bruised.”

“How’d you get here?” Kent asked, moving closer. 

“Tater brought me. I just… needed to see you,” Jack said and leaned heavily on Kent. Kent snaked his arm around Jack’s hulking body and reached up to bury a hand in his hair. It was getting long again. “It’s been almost two months and it’s been hard only getting to hear you on the phone,” Jack whispered, hand going to Kent’s stomach. 

“Let’s lay down,” Kent said helping Jack out of his winter coat. Jack groaned as Kent helped him undress and even in the dim light the deep, dark bruises were visible on Jack’s pale skin. 

The pull out bed was small, but it was still a double bed. Jack held Kent tight, sighing into his hair and gently rubbing Kent’s belly. Kent sank into Jack’s arms, fighting the urge to burst into tears. It was easy to tell himself it wasn’t right when Jack was miles away. But when he was right there everything felt so easy. It felt so perfect and right. So right. 

Kent tried to blame it on hormones and being unmated, but he knew deep down it was more than that. A weary Jack came to him for a few hours together and Kent would have done the same if Jack asked. Kent would do anything to be in Jack’s arms. 


	11. 30 weeks

Kent went with Jack during the bye week. They flew in a private plane with Tater, Bootsy, and a very pregnant Caroline to match Kent’s own very pregnantness. The zucchini was trying to make a permanent home in Kent’s lungs and he felt like he was waddling. That was not a cute look when with the man he loved. 

The upside to time in Mexico was he wouldn’t have to fight to feet his feet into boots and the pool definitely sounded like an upside.

Jeff made him do yoga when there was a lull at work. Ranch usually joined them and sometimes even Tally. Bernando had brought in tons of leftover latkes and Kent was pretty sure the zucchini had a new favorite food. 

For the 8 nights of Hanukkah, Kent sat with Jack on Skype while Jack lit each candle and said the prayer. He even took his menorah travelling. Kent thought it was cute. 

With the holidays, he did his best to not think about ruining Jack’s life. He deserved to be happy for the holidays. Kent deserved to be happy for the holidays. So he decided he wouldn’t think about it until after the New Year. 

The Falcs had a game New Years Eve and since it was a home game, Kent planned to attend and live in bliss and ignorance for just a few moments longer. 

 

The place they were staying at was gorgeous. It had to have cost millions. 

“Do you want to lie down or eat something?” Jack asked, following Kent around while he checked the place out. 

“Too stiff to lie down now, but eating is probably good. Then i want to go in the pool,” he said turning and going back to the kitchen. The place came fully stocked and Kent didn’t know what he wanted to eat first. 

“We’re going in the pool!” Caroline called to Kent. She’d already changed and even in a bathing suit she didn’t look as large as Kent. He was basically a walrus and she barely pushed seal. 

“We’ll join you in a bit!” Kent called back. He sat down while Jack pulled food out of the fridge and made them sandwiches. “Where did Mashkov go?” he asked Jack. 

“Oh he has a lot of friends here. He charms everyone with his Spanish, but he said he’ll be back by dinner. Maybe with some people and maybe without.”

“I always see him babysitting you,” Kent said. Jack smiled, passing Kent his plate. 

“He takes me with usually. He has friends everywhere he goes and he tells them I’m his little brother.”

Kent laughed.

 

The pool was everything Kent hoped it would be. He felt better than he had in days having all the extra weight lifted off him. Caroline took a ton of pictures and Bootsy tried his best to dunk Jack multiple times. 

Tater returned with two friends, Maria and Jose, and the three of them cooked a spectacular dinner. Maria fawned over Caroline and Kent and rubbed their bellies with a mixture of things she called the perfect family recipe. She then showed Jack and Bootsy how to properly massage a pregnant person. 

It felt so good that Kent almost missed the way Jose kept slipping his hands into Mashkov’s pants. 

They sat outside by a fire well into the evening and Jack explained Tater had a lot of friends and he also slept with a lot of those friends. He had a pack all over the world so he was never lonely and that was why he was taking turns making out with Maria and Jose. 

Kent had never been adverse to the idea of polyamory or packs, but it did feel strange to think about. He couldn’t really imagine loving someone else the way he loved Jack at the same time as he loved Jack. It felt foreign, but not wrong. 

 

“Are you okay?” Jack asked, concern flooding his face as Kent held his stomach breathing hard. The second his orgasm faded away he felt a familiar tightness in his belly. 

“Yeah, just it’ll pass,” he grunted. Jack’s tongue had been amazing and Kent hated to ruin the moment especially since he hadn’t gotten Jack off.

“You look like you’re in pain, Kenny,” Jack said. Kent took a deep breath, breathing through the next one. 

“It hurts but it’s like fake contractions. Braxton Hicks contractions. The doctor said they happen sometimes, but it’s usually if I’ve been painting too long.”

“But it’s not like real labor?” 

“No,” Kent said squeezing his eyes shut and trying to uncramp himself. He took some sips of his water and tried willing himself to relax. They were fading, but it left his back feeling tight. Jack rubbed the back of Kent’s neck. “They are going away,” Kent said. 

“Okay,” Jack murmured, nuzzling Kent and kissing his scent glands. Kent shuddered.

“You didn’t get off, Zimms,” Kent said tilting his head back to look at Jack. He still needed to cut his hair. It was curling against the back of his neck and around his ears. 

“I’m okay,” Jack said kissing Kent. 

“Let’s go skinny dipping,” Kent said. Not only did being in the pool sound great, but Jack naked and wet? Hot.

“It’s past one am,” Jack said.

“The point of skinny dipping is to do it in the dark and besides the pool is super lit up.”

Jack stared at Kent for a moment and then nodded. “Okay we can wear the bathrobes down to the pool.”

Kent grinned. He followed Jack through the house and out onto the deck. It was still fairly hot and the pool glittered full of light. Kent disrobed and slide into the water with a happy sigh. 

“You ever been?” Kent asked. Jack slowly pulled off his robe and slipped into the water with Kent. 

“Been what?”

“Skinny dipping before,” Kent asked wrapping arms and legs around Jack. 

“No and it’s kind of weird. Like a weird bath,” Jack said. Kent laughed kissing his jaw.

“I went a few times but it was always fucking cold. I like that it’s warm here.”

Jack wrapped an arm around Kent’s back and kissed him properly. “Can I be there when the baby is being born?” Jack asked, surprising Kent. 

“Why do you want to be there? It’s like gross and I’ll probably just yell at you.”

“I don’t know. I just kind of want to be there. I know I might be on a roadie, but I’d fly back to be with you. I was reading up about labor and delivery.” 

Kent laughed and ran his fingers through Jack’s hair. “Oh Zimms. I’m not even surprised,” Kent said pushing thoughts of leaving Jack to the back of his mind. He give up a game to be with Kent. Knowing that sent elation and nausea through him.

“Please call me?” Jack asked, soft blue eyes pleading. Kent smiled, cupping his cheek and pressing their lips together. 

“Yeah of course I’ll call you,” Kent murmured and kissed him again. Jack smiled into the kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got this chapter done quick because I'm super excited for the next chapter!!


	12. 32 weeks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I can't believe Kent is already at 32 weeks! Enjoy~
> 
> Spoilerish warnings in end notes~

The gallery the show was in was fairly big and showcased twelve different artists who used varying mediums. Kent had his two pregnant paintings and then two he based off of Jack’s body and the way muscles moved and stretched over his torso along with the bruises he wore after most games.

Jack was in Boston too to play the Bruins and he and Kent had plans to meet up after they were both done. The show started right when the game did and Kent hoped that’d make time go by faster. Jack said he had something special to give Kent.

Now that they were settled into the new house, Larissa decided she was planning a baby shower for Kent in February. All the guys on the Samwell Hockey team had apparently been bugging her about throwing one. Kent’s friends from Quebec were even invited. Swoops had said he’d bring food for everyone. Bernando and Ranch were ready to make all sorts of baby inspired treats. 

Kent felt overwhelmed, but Larissa picked a day Jack would be able to attend too. She said everything would be fine. And since Kent was keeping the sex under wraps, the party was going to be done in shades of purple. 

New Years had been special. Jack and Kent couldn’t go to any bars, but they walked through the city until they were freezing and then found a shop open til midnight that had the NYC Ball Drop on TV and served stellar hot chocolate and pancakes.

It was full but not crowded and no one stopped Jack to ask about hockey. That evening had pushed the thought of leaving Jack even further into the back of Kent’s mind. They could still be anonymous. They could still be people outside of hockey. 

Jack even said he was feeling less anxious lately because he felt so happy. He felt like he could do anything as long as he could tell Kent about it later.

Photos of their time in Mexico had a lot of people talking, but no one put anything together. Kent was just a friend to the outside world and that was okay.

 

========================

 

Finding male maternity dress clothes had been a struggle. They just didn’t exist and Kent was lucky Larissa and Shitty made good last minute tailors so he wasn’t drowning in fabric. He wore dress pants with a short sleeve button down in light blue with tiny navy sailboats stitched on. 

He felt like an absolute whale as he mingled. He was slow and it was hard to breathe sometimes. Most people offered him a chair, but he declined. Sitting and standing sucked, but at least walking soothed the restless squash.

People were drawn to his art and asked plenty of questions. He got business cards upon business cards. Art students questioned him about technique and asked about his subjects. Kent explained in detail. He could talk about his art for days. 

He did some rounds to check out the art. Some of the photography reminded him of pictures Jack took. He always liked to find interesting lighting. 

Kent talked extensively to all the other artists and exchanged phone numbers and instagrams. One girl had done a set of delicate watercolor paintings of groups of pregnant omegas. Kent found the pieces beautiful especially because she included both pregnant men and women in her pieces. It was appreciated.

Towards the end of the evening, Kent finally sat in one of the leather chairs by the white grand piano. A young man had been playing soft, soothing music all night and now it made Kent sleepy. 

“Did you eat?” Shitty asked coming up behind Kent. 

“Yeah I feel like I ate a lot,” Kent said with a lot. Half the night he was walking around with a plate of snacks or cup of water in hand. The squash was loving the cheese and celery. 

“Okay good. Lardo said we’ll probably pick up food on the way to the hotel. The show ends in fifteen, so I’d say we’ll leave a bit after that? We’ll clean and pack your stuff,” Shitty said clapping Kent on the shoulder. 

“I’m gonna meet Jack somewhere,” Kent reminded him. 

“Yeah,” Shitty said looking at his watch. “The game is probably just ending so he’ll probably call when we’re getting food.”

Kent nodded. He checked his phone to see the score and the Falcs had won. He smiled, settling back in the chair and shutting his eyes. He was so proud of Jack.

 

Larissa was shaking Kent awake. “Hey, we’re almost ready to go,” she said. Kent blinked and stretched. He didn’t remember falling asleep. He checked his phone and there were no messages from Jack, but there were three missed calls from Mashkov. He didn’t leave a message so Kent called back. 

“Oh little Kenny,” he answered sounding tired. “Little Kenny did you hear?”

“Hear what?” Kent asked. Mashkov sighed.

“Zimmboni took a big hit. A very big and bad hit. He went to hospital after they said concussion and he still having memory trouble.”

Kent felt his entire body go numb. “What?” he croaked. 

“He have puck and pass and turn as someone aiming to hit him. The bad timing made his head between the guy and boards. He went down and not get back up. I went out with the doctor and he said he black out. His ears was ringing and he was felt sick like he gonna throw up.” Kent was shaking as Mashkov continued. “He skate off after minutes but not good. He knew his name but keep asking where was he and why he there. Over and over. Not remembering score or that he just was playing hockey. He said he had to go but not know go where. They keeping him here for 24 hour maybe longer. He not very improve. Now says his head is hurting.”

“Jack…” Kent felt like he couldn’t breathe. Like his lungs had broken at the thought of Jack hurt and scared and confused. Kent didn’t realize he was hyperventilating until Tater was telling him Jack would be okay. “You don’t know that!” Kent screamed at his phone as tears rolled down his cheeks. 

Everyone in the gallery rushed to him asking what was wrong. Larissa finally took his phone but Kent felt like he was dying. Shitty was trying to calm him down. Larissa was speaking to him, but he couldn’t hear them. 

The first contraction hit hard and he gasped, hands going to his belly. Another followed it harder than the first. 

“Kent, Kent look at me,” Larissa was shouting, holding his face in her hands. He cried more as another contraction hit. “You are NOT going to have this baby now. You are not. You need to calm down. We are going to go to Jack but we can’t do that if you are having a baby.”

Kent wrapped his hand around her wrist as she continued to hold his face. He breathed through the next contraction and tried to piece himself back together. 

 

Mashkov met them at the hospital but said they weren’t allowed to see Jack. Mashkov had called Jack’s parents and they were on a flight to Boston. 

“I want to see him now,” Kent demanded, arms wrapped around himself. 

“We are having to wait little Kenny. I tried telling you. They said in morning.”

“I’m his boyfriend! I’m pregnant with his fucking baby!” Kent snapped. Larissa was rubbing his back trying to keep him calm. 

“I know this,” Tater said looking sad. “But they are saying no. Time to wait.” 

“Then I’m waiting right here,” Kent said crossing his arms. 

“Kent, it’s not comfortable and you need sleep,” Larissa said softly. He shook his head. 

“I’m staying right here,” he said again. 

“I stay and will be making sure he okay,” Tater said to Shitty and Larissa. “We go to waiting space upstairs where less people are being.”

“I guess, but this is a stupid idea Kent. You’ll feel better if you come with us and sleep.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said voice clipped. Larissa gave him a long look, but finally her and Shitty left and Kent went upstairs with Tater.

 

 

 

Kent woke up stiff and aching. His eyes and mouth were dry and the squash was sitting on his bladder. He got up slowly. The clock on the wall said it was just past five in the morning. 

“I going to get us food,” Tater said when Kent finally got his balance. He nodded doing his best to stretch.

Kent slipped in and out of the family bathroom. He felt like shit. He dozed on and off all night while sitting up. It sucked, but he needed to be as close to Jack as he could be. Just incase. 

Kent wasn’t sure what just incase meant, but he’d dreamed of Jack forgetting him and everything between them. It wasn’t even about the baby. He didn’t want Jack to forget him. 

That’d be his punishment though for spending so much time telling himself he was going to push Jack away. 

That he was going to leave Jack.

Kent stopped by the water fountain. Whoever was coming down the hall was loud for so early in the morning. Kent glanced as they passed, paling slightly when he realized it was Jack’s parents. He watched them stop in front of a room. They looked tired. 

“I won’t allow it!” Jack’s dad snapped. They were both sipping coffee.

“Bob please, we can discuss it later,” his mom said. 

“No. I’m not going to let him throw his life away like this! He’s nineteen! He can’t have a child! Do you know what that could do to everything he’s worked for!” He was whisper yelling, but Kent heard it as clear as day and it made his heart sink. 

“Bob…” Jack’s mom sighed.

“No! This… this whore is probably just using Jack! All that fame and money? Jack’s so naive he wouldn’t think to question about this baby. He’s a stupid kid and I won’t allow it.”

“Bob. You don’t get a say in this,” Jack’s mom said sternly. 

“I’m his father. He doesn’t need this in his life and I’m going to talk to him. We don’t want this. He doesn’t want this!” 

“Mr. Zimmermann,” Mashkov said from behind Kent. Tater put an arm around Kent as the Zimmermann’s turned to look at them. Jack’s mom turned red, but his dad just looked at Kent eyes full of anger. Kent felt like he was going to be sick. “We going to see Jack now,” Mashkov said and steered Kent forward. 

Kent’s legs shook with each step. If Tater wasn’t there he wasn’t he’d make it to Jack’s door. 

“He’s rather cranky,” Jack’s mom said as Mashkov pushed Kent into the dark room and shut the door without following him. 

Kent stood in the dark, silent room staring at the lump of Jack on the bed. 

“I’m not asleep,” he said in Quebecois. “I didn’t mean to blurt it out the way I did…” he trailed off with a sigh. “My head hurts.”

Kent went over to Jack, reaching out to gently card fingers through his hair and down to his cheek. Tears welled up in his eyes. 

“Jack…” he croaked. 

“I don’t really want to talk Kenny,” he continued in Quebecois. Kent nodded. “I’m so tired, but they kept bothering me all night to check my memory. I am in Boston. I was playing hockey. We lost in overtime… their lights hurt my eyes,” Jack said with a yawn. “I was looking for you.”

“What?” Kent asked in Quebecois. 

“There’s this reaction alphas can have they said. I kept wanting to leave because I was so worried about you. The doctor said sometimes when an alpha gets injured they immediately worry about their mate or their pack because they feel they can no longer protect them.”

“I’m right here,” Kent whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks. 

“I know. It makes me feel better. Can you lay down with me?”

“Zimms, there’s like three centimeters of space on this bed,” Kent said, voice shaky. 

“Oh,” Jack said and pulled the blanket back. “Sit between my legs.”

Kent wasn’t going to argue. He wanted to be as close to Jack as possible. Getting onto the bed was a chore, but when he settled against Jack’s chest he felt better. Jack was warm and strong and remembered Kent. 

Jack wrapped an arm around Kent, spreading his hand over Kent’s belly and ran the other through Kent’s hair. “Mm sorry about them,” Jack murmured. He yawned. “Mm head hurts…”

Kent placed a hand over Jack’s and squeezed it. 

“I love you, Zimms.”

“I love you too Kenny… I’m sorry I got hurt…” Jack mumbled followed by soft snoring. Kent could hear Jack’s heartbeat slow and steady and the sound calmed him. He shut his eyes and squeezed Jack’s hand again. Kent let go of all the bad feelings that filled him up. He’d deal with them later. But for the time being, he just wanted to be with Jack in peace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: sports injury/concussions, panic attacks


End file.
